Silent Hill: The Fall
by The Infamous Fly
Summary: Dipper, Mabel, and Stanford Pines were on a camping trip, when their car crashes and they become stranded outside the town of Silent Hill. Soon they must face the nightmarish secrets of the town, but can they do it when they are separated, and forced to fend for themselves? Rated M for gore, disturbing concepts & scenes, violence, and sexual references.
1. Chapter 1

**-=0=- **

Dipper Pines was bored out of his mind. He was sitting in the backseat of his great uncle's busted up El Diablo, a class of car so dangerous that most had been destroyed by crashing into one another. His sister sat next to him, smiling and singing along to whatever pop song she loved this week. Her giddiness had kept him occupied for the first two hours of their journey, but once they had run out of in-the-car games, he had chosen to start reading. Unfortunately, he had practically memorized everything in The Journal, and found re-readings just made him want to go out and face the real things. The man sitting in the driver's seat was his great-uncle Stan, a man who would usually never pass up the opportunity to rip off tourists on the weekend, but his house/store was getting fumigated, so he said "Why don't the three of us have a little camping trip. It'll be great for bonding and all that mush-mush." The twins hadn't been particularly enthusiastic about spending nights in tent with their large, sweaty great uncle. But, knowing that he just wanted to spend some quality time with them (and with no alternatives since Stan considered hotels "complete shams") they agreed. Right now the elder was trying to get a signal on his ancient radio, but all he could get was static.

Then the overly cheerful voice of a DJ penetrated the static and made Dipper groan._ "Welcome Back to Eternal Silence, where I will be bringing you the greatest sound in the world, the absence of sound! Here I pride myself on my station being an oasis of silence in a desert of garbled static that we call songs!"_ Stan face-palmed and cursed any and all powers. _"Next Up, I'll be bringing you the sounds of silence here in the everglades!"_ Stan frowned and Dipper, his attention brought to the radio, noticed the time, "Wait a second..." Dipper bolted up, "Look at the time. It's 6:33! We were supposed to get there an hour ago!" _How could we have missed that? _The elderly shyster ignored him in favor of grabbing the map, and Mabel called him a worrywart, telling him that "It's all gonna be okay bro-bro! We're just a little lost!" He crossed his arms and stared out at the mist which blocked his sight of the tree line. _It's like we're in the doldrums. _The thought of driving forever in this car, until they ran out of fuel, then food, then water, petrified him. Stan, who was trying to concentrate, reached forward to shut off the annoying DJ, but he stopped and his eyes widened as he register the next thing the DJ said. _"Don't touch that dial now, we're just getting started!"_

They all stared at the radio as the voice cut off and was replaced with the silence that the man had boasted of. Mabel leaned forward, "He uh, I mean, that was a total coincidence right? I mean, DJ's say that kind of stuff all the time…right?" She looked between her nervous brother, and disgruntled Grunkle. Stan turned off the radio, and tried to reassure his young charges. "Of course it was, now don't you two worry, we'll find a town that we can stop at any second now-" as if on cue a sign appeared up ahead, but it appeared dilapidated and rotting. "See? What did I tell ya'?" As he spoke Dipper looked put his right side window, and Mabel leaned over as well, both twins catching a glimpse of the sign. The words SILENT HILL were inscribed in a red, silly looking faunt, but someone had taken the excruciating time to carve over the "I" and transformed the message into _SILENT HELL_. Mabel bit her lip and leaned back in her seat, glancing over she saw her brother looking a tad too pale. Trying to lift his spirits, the bubbly brunette gave him a small smile, "It's probably a very nice town, just like Gravity Falls!" Just then Dipper caught sight of a creature sitting (standing?) in the middle of the road, and called out.

"GRUNKLE STAN! LOOK OUT!"

The car swerved, and they crashed into the ditch on the side of the road. Dipper slammed his head against the passenger seat, and groaned in pain, trying to lie backwards, but finding that gravity had other ideas, and the only thing stopping his from falling down, was his seatbelt. He looked over to see if his sister was alright, and found that she was holding her legs, and rocking back and forth a little. "Mabel...Mabel its okay, everything's alright. Are you OK?" she nodded, but kept staring into space. A groan came from below, and Dipper noticed movement. "Stan? Are you okay?" There was a curse, and then a raspy voice called up to them, "I'm fine. How's your sister doing?" Dipper glanced back at his usually enthusiastic twin, and bit his lip. "She uh, she's just a little bit in shock." The driver side door opened, and Dipper heard the old man to tell them to stay put. _As if they had a lot of choice in the matter._

The door opened and Dipper looked over to see Stan unbuckling Mabel. She fell into her great uncle's arms, and he gave her a squeeze of reassurance. She took a few deep breaths, and the old man placed her on the ground outside the wreck. Then Stan leaned forward and helped Dipper out, careful to avoid the shattered glass which lay everywhere. Once they were all outside the car, and Stan had caught his breath, he gazed into the mist ahead, and spoke. "I'm going to go into town, and get some help, you kids stay by the car." Mabel hot up, "But Grunkle Stan! It's _creepy_ out here!' he looked back down at her with a raised eye brow, "I'll be right back, besides…you two have fought plenty of monsters, don't tell me your scared of a little mist are ya'?" Neither of them replied, and thus, the silence was deafening.

"See? You'll be fine; I just need the two of you to stay with the car." Mabel stepped forward, her arms hanging defiantly at her side "But why can't we just-" "Upupapup! None of that!" She looked at the dying grass at her feet, and Stan sighed. He stepped forward and ruffled her and Dipper's hair, "Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it. 'Kay?" They nodded reluctantly, and he smiled before climbing out of the ditch and walking towards town. Dipper watched him walk into the fog with a sinking feeling.

**-=0=-**

After a moment of walking, Stanford Pines glanced behind him, but found that he was too far away, and the fog was too thick for him to still see his great nephew and great niece. Turning away and taking a big gulp of moist air, he hoped that the ominous feeling that clouded his mind would dissipate.

It did not.

Wiping seat from his brow, the senior came upon a decrepit gas station, plagued by eons of rust; it was immortalized by the possibility that there couldn't have been a time when this landmark had not existed. At first Stanford was sure that it must have been deserted, after all, how could someone run a building in this condition? But then he saw something (Someone?) move inside, and ran up to the door. Pushing it open, he winced at the sound of the little brass bell's jingling, and glanced around. The racks and displays were scattered about the floor, and cracked linoleum grinned up at the old man, a habitat for the most detestable of insects. "Hello? Is-is there anyone in here?" Surprised at his own stutter, the con artist coughed and took another glance around before he turned back to the door.

Just as he opened it though, a low hiss reached his ears and he looked back at the counter in time to see a shriveled, naked creature resting atop it. The creature's head was that of a giant larva and the moment he saw it, saliva dripped off the front row it's many sharp teeth, and it hissed louder. Then the creature leaped onto Stan, digging its claws into his shoulders, it attempted to bite off his head as he screamed and thrashed violently beneath it. Reaching to his right, the senior grabbed an abandoned wrench and slammed it into the head of the monster. The wrinkled horror screeched, and Stanford gave it a kick to the stomach, causing the creature to go flying to its feet and topple backwards into the counter. The elder slammed the wrench into his opponent's head again, watching as green blood squirted forth, he covered his mouth and nose when the stench of the creature's blood reached him.

The beast wriggled around on the ground for a little bit, causing the old man to kick it in the ribs. It hissed a little before going lax, and Stanford leaned against the counter as he tried to catch his breath, and figure out what the hell that thing was. _I'm getting too old for this. _There was another his at the door, and the bell tinkled, alerting Stan to the entrance of another. He spun around and saw that this creature had red markings on it, and was slightly larger than the last one. Anticipating its attack, the con man leapt over the counter, and the worm headed beast slammed its head down on the counter, and hissed in pain as the old man ran to the back door.

**-=0=-**

"He's been gone for an hour now at least!" Dipper groaned and stood up, his sister was drawing something in the mud, and glanced up at him worriedly, before forcing a smile. "Oh it hasn't been that long, your just inpatient!" He leaned down to her level,"Mabel, something has gone wrong okay? I knew this place was weird, and I was right. Now I'm going into town to find Stan…" "But he told us to wait!" The young detective covered his face with a hand, and just as he did, rain began to pelt his forehead. "See its raining! We can't stay out here, alright? Now I'm sure that there will be someone in town that-" "it's barely drizzling, and what if he comes back while we're "searching" for him?"

Dipper sighed, and gripped his hair in frustration. "You know what? FINE! You stay here in case he comes back, and I'll go look for him!" He turned and began stomping off into the fog, when he heard her yell for him to wait up. She came to a halt beside him and frowned, "All right! All right! I'll come with you." He nodded, a little smugly, but was secretly happy that his sister would be accompanying him. This place gave him the creeps.

As they walked into town, Mabel decided to start whistling "Row, row, your boat" Dipper however, was trying to find this town on the map, and told her to stop whistling. Which she took as an opportunity to start humming. Angered by the repetitive and annoying song, Dipper sped up his pace, so that he was ahead of her. She stopped humming to tell him to slow down, but the pre-teen was confused and angered and did not do so. In fact, he moved even faster, and not looking where he was going, he crashed into a mail box. The dazed youth stumbled to his feet and reached for the fallen map, just as a gust of wind hit, and sent the map skittering away. Looking up, Dipper noticed that he was in the town square, and that he had entered the sidewalk without even noticing. The many stores and shops which surrounded him were all boarded up, through the use of rotting plywood, rusty chains, and deteriorating pig iron bars. There was a broken fountain in the center, its base filled with leaves and dirty water. With smile Dipper turned back to his sister, "See! I told you this place was weird, and now it turns out it's abandoned!"

She was gone.

"Mabel?" He turned in a complete circle but found that she was missing. The fog seemed to crawl forward, blocking out more of the town. "Mabel? Come out, it's not funny!" More silence. _How could she do this? Why does she have to be so irresponsible, _Then he realized she might not be hiding. "Mabel, please come out, I'm sorry for getting angry, but we have to stick together." He felt a chill go up his spine when there was no reply, and the "what ifs" began to flood his mind. The pre-teen took a deep breath and tried to calm him as he leaned against the mail box. _You're not gonna find her by panicking. _

Then he heard humming, _her _humming, coming from behind him. _Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream…_He turned around expecting to see a smug Mabel, but instead it was just more fog.

Gulping, he ran towards the source of the sound, trying to figure out if it was her who was humming or an impostor mocking his distress. Then he heard her voice as she sung the lyrics, and he smiled, before running down the alleyway that the song was beckoning him toward. _"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream,"_ As he ran, Dipper disturbed a swarm of massive insects, and he cried out when he saw how large and bizarre they were. _"Merrily, merrily, merrily …"_ He climbed over a barrier made of trash, and collapsed onto the cold ground with a moan of pain. Panting, he regained his breath, and looked up ready to lecture his sister, when his face turned pale, and he shrieked. Crawling backwards, he found himself pinned against the wall of trash.

Flies buzzed by, but the boy was too traumatized to swat them away. For tied to the brick wall which made up the dead end of this alley, was a skinned corpse. It was too small, too skiny, he couldn't even tell what gender or age it was. Dipper shut his eyes, and felt the world slipping out from under him, his stomach found this extremely uncomfortable, and he vomited. _"…life is but a dream…" _Glancing up from the mess he made he saw that a phonograph stood on a hand table in front of the wall, and played his sister's voice. _"...life is but a dream…" _It seemed to be stuck on a loop, _"...life is but a dream..." _Cruelly repeating his sister's voice, the same happiness and mirth in it, the same fanciful madness that he loved so much, evident in every lyric. _"...life is but a dream..." _But it was cold and useless in front of this deprave scene, and hearing it merely caused him to wish that his sister was here, and not this dreadful machine and its morose message. _"...life is but a dream...li-li-li-life is just a dream…" _

_Whoever did this probably has Mabel and Stan, you've got to find them and escape before…this happens. _He turned away and began to climb back over the wall of refuse, his mind swimming with questions. _Who did this? How did they get a recording of Mabel singing that? I mean, they could have forced her, but it was only five minutes ago, and she sounded happy when she was singing. And what is this place? It's not on the map, and it seems completely desert- _

He stopped climbing and dropped back to his feet when he heard a familiar voice.

_"Hello Dipper Pines…" _He looked at the record player dumbfounded, and tried to speak. _"Thanks for making it so easy to separate you and your sister, we prefer to feed when humans are alone. That's when there at their most vulnerable."_ Now questions overflowed in the poor tweens mind, and he could only mutter something. _"Despite what some humans would have you believe, your species is made for so-operation, and when you remove that co-operation, when you remove human contact, or at the very least, limit it to a few maddening encounters, suddenly a person becomes twice as vulnerable." _"How did you-"_ "No one to talk to, with nothing to listen to but the static of the radio and the sound of your tormentors, hisses, screams, groans, mutters. Why, you humans, most of you at least, tend to snap like twigs. Most of you embrace the end." _

He couldn't take it anymore, the buzzing of the flies, the mocking hilarity thinly concealed behind the too cheery voice, how much none of this made sense. "Who or what the hell are you? And what have you done with Mabel?" Laughter, buckets of it rained down upon the desperate pre-teen, and Dipper found himself ready to throw the insane device against the brick wall. _"Oh, I had forgotten how funny it is to play with children; of course in my day you'd be old enough to ship off to war. HAHAHA! Usually we go for the older teens to young adults area, because well, they are the closest yet nearest. But when we sensed you and your "family" well we just had to have a little fun with you. But as for what I am, I think the better question is; what am I not? HAHHA! Solve that one detective boy! And as for what we've done with you're oh so precious sister, well…let's just say she won't be giving out hugs anytime soon…HAAHAHA!" _Dipper leaped forward and kicked the table over, watching as the disk broke on the pavement, and more bugs crawled away from the landing spot.

With tears in his eyes, Dipper Pines broke off one of the table legs, and climbed back over the wall. He tried to prepare himself for what was to come, tried to not imagine an armless Mabel, left to die somewhere out there. He tried not to blame himself, and he tried to consolidate himself with the thought that "it would be all right" in the end.

He failed quite miserably.

* * *

_**Whadja' think? I loved the radio guy from Silent Hill PT. so much that I had to put him in this. I hope you enjoy. **_


	2. Chapter 2

"Dipper!? Dipper…please…" Mabel Pines collapsed on the sidewalk, her throat sore form calling her missing brother's name for the last five minutes. She bit her lip painfully and felt a tear roll down her the right side of her face. "I'm sorry…" At first she had been mad at leaving him for running of when all she had been doing was humming, but now all she wanted was to see him. She wasn't sure what was more unsettling, the idea that he had been dragged away, or the possibility that he had left her alone just to spite her. _He wouldn't do that, something must have happened; he wouldn't leave me all alone. _The desperate pre-teen heard what sounded like a wolf howl and shivered in moist cold which had begun to fill her being. Hugging her sweater closer to her being, she called out again, and found that her voice was even more cracked.

"Dipper…I'm really, really, sorry…please just-" She heard a groan from behind her, and whipped her head around to see a metal fence stood between the sidewalk and a park. _That wasn't here before-was it? _The young brunette dried her eyes and walked over to the twisted metal fence. Gazing inside the overgrown park, she saw that it was filled with garbage and that a tipped over car had crashed into the merry-go-round. A huge bramble extended from the center of the park outward, groping out with wickedly thorny fingers. Then she noticed something move in one of the bushes. Having nothing else to go on, she decided to enter the park.

Grabbing the top of the fence, she pulled herself over, and squealed in pain when her thigh scraped on the iron point of the fence and fell onto the other side. Scrambling to her feet, the first thing she noticed was that there was a flower growing out of the bramble. A rose to be exact, it was pinkish red, and appeared to be the only of its kind. Enchanted by the look of it, Mabel let the noise she had heard slip from her mind, and stepped closer to the flower. Something seemed wrong about it being here, all alone. As if someone had grown this flower just for her, someone, like a Venus fly trap, had singled out a fly and grown a special flower that it knew would appeal to that one fly.

But she couldn't resist.

_It's just a flower after all; you're starting to become Dipper levels of paranoid._

The lost brunette stroked the petals, finding brief solace in the way that they felt, her sadness, anxiousness, and frustration seemed to dissipate considerably. Then she sniffed the air, and found that any smell produced by the rose was blocked out by the stench of death that was nearby. _Unless the flower is making that smell? _

Just as this occurred to the unsuspecting girl, a hand shot out of the bush and wrapped it around hers tightly. The hand had only three large, stubby fingers, and somehow even more disturbing, bloody thorns pierced the skin and seemed to try to wrap themselves around her hand. The young girl screamed and fought to pull away, but found that the owner of the hand was much stronger and responded to her efforts by easily pulling her closer and squeezing until her hand hurt. She tried to pulled the arm with her own, but found that the pale, flaccid skin was barely well stretched across bone, and striking the arm merely made her hand hurt.

A faceless, fleshy blob stared back, the only thing that suggested a face was slit resembling a mouth that had balls of spikes sticking out of it. The besweatered girl screamed, and turned away, trying to run towards the fence, but she felt a vine tangle in her long hair and she cried out as the creature closed its arms around her.

Pain coursed through her chest and back as the creature squeezed her, and the thorns which grew on its arms piercing her clothes, and biting into her skin. Forced against the bandaged chest of the monster Mabel was even further disturbed to see that the creature's hands only had three large, stubby fingers, which it used to pinch her stomach until it hurt. She wriggled back and forth with all her strength, but found that the creature had an iron grip. The monster responded to her struggles by pointing her skyward and trashing around, tearing back and forth across her skin with its thorns. The victim shrieked in pain just as the beast tore the thorns back out of her, and the girl slumped to ground, her face stained with tears and her green sweater stained red with blood. The monster mewled behind her and she heard it stomp forward. Groaning in pain, she pushed herself to her feet and ducked to the side just as it tried to grab her.

The beast stumbled and whimpered pitifully. Its victim was not listening however; she was running towards the fence as fast as possible. But just as she did, another one of the beasts stood up on the other side of the fence and began climbing, causing Mabel to skid to a halt and run out of the way as the first faceless monster stumbled forward in an attempt to catch her. She headed towards the broken merry-go-round, trying not to pay attention to the whimpers created by her pursuers.

Finally making it, she climbed onto the hood of the car, but her left leg was grabbed by one of them. She kicked, but once again, the monster was far too strong to be dissuaded by her attempts. Mabel saw that other one galloping towards her on all fours, its mouth oozing what looked like yellow saliva.

Then she saw it, a pistol was lying on the dashboard of the crashed car. Panicked, and, having no other choice, Mabel braced herself for the pain, and smashed her fist through the windshield, biting her lip to stop from screaming in pain, she kicked the monster in the mouth, and grabbed the gun with her bloody hand. With tears rolling down her round cheeks, the twelve year old pointed the gun at the monster, her hands shaking almost as much as her voice. "L-leave me a-alone n-now or I-I'll k-k-kill y-you…" The monster just whined louder, and was joined by its fellow, who grabbed her other foot. "I mean it!" She tried to kick them off, but they kept dragging her across the hood of the car towards them. Closing her eyes, she pulled the trigger and listened to the ear splitting series of bangs which resounded through the park.

The grip on her feet slackened and she opened her eyes and saw one of the beasts was staggering backwards, and the other was bleeding profusely from its face. But it was bleeding green blood, which stank and hissed when it touched the hood of the car. Mabel kicked it in the mouth and crawled off the other side of the car. Running as fast as possible, she prohibited herself from looking back, as the monsters continued to stumble after her, their whimpers filling her ears unsettlingly. _What are those things? Did they get Dipper? _She felt sick just thinking about their faces, and the smell of them, that awful, awful smell, it refused to leave her nose. It combined with the trauma of her encounter, the breathlessness of running, and the fear of what happened to her brother, and caused the bleeding tween to stop next to a large bush and curl up behind it. She used her sweater to dry her eyes, and to mop up the blood which covered her left hand. Her eyes widened when she heard the monsters' trademark whimpers, and she pulled her dirty legs under her sweater, praying that the monsters couldn't hear the deafening beating of her heart.

There was a loud sucking sound as they licked the air with their urchin like mouths. Keeping as close to the bush as possible, Mabel wiped the sweat from her brow, and held her breath. There was more licking, louder whimpers, and then…silence. The terrified girl waited for a long time, feeling the tension grow to an unbearable level. Unable to take it any longer, she prepared to fire if they were still there, and shot up to see…

Fog.

They had disappeared, and all that was left was fog.

Panting, the young brunette glanced around, before running in the opposite direction from which she came. Feeling rain begin to splash against the back of her neck, her hands shook as she placed the gun in the pocket of her shorts.

**-=0=-**

Stan slammed the gate closed, and, ignoring the banging sounds of the worm faced monsters slamming into it, he groaned as he rolled an abandoned cart into the gate. The horde of monsters on the other side, stuck their arms through the bars, and attempted to grab him, their constant hissing sending little bits of saliva flying towards him. He chuckled darkly to himself, wracked with pain from his fights with the creatures; he needed something to raise his buried spirits. "HA! Take that you leeched faced morons!" They continued grasping at air, to mindless to do anything else.

Glancing behind him, the shyster saw the fog move like a dark god was pulling aside a curtain, only to reveal an empty and rusty carnival. The rides seemed to run on their own, and the area was filled by the sound of slowed down, almost eerie carnival music. Sighing, Stan trudged in the direction of the music, he hadn't seen a soul since entering this god forsaken town, but hoped that someone would be responsible for putting on the music. _Then again, the rides moved seemingly automatically. So the music could just as easily be playing of its own accord. _Trudging across the field of muck, Stan hugged his suit closer to his chest; the light rain was not doing anything to get rid of his chill. The madness of this place, and the worry about what could be happening to the twins right now, it was deteriorating his reasoning, and made him feel mentally exhausted as well as physically. _In all my years, in ALL my travels, I have never found a place as disturbing as this. You can't have nightmares this bad. _

Arriving upon the source of the deranged excuse for a melody, Stan leaned against a rotting wooden sign that was inscribed with the words "FREAKSHOW!" Glancing up at it, he groaned and stumbled towards the entrance of the tent, and entered to find it much warmer inside. Smiling, he turned on the flashlight he had found in the back of the gas station, and pointed it around, first seeing the rows upon rows of seats which filled the majority of the inside, then the stage, which appeared to have a cage on it. Stan squinted, noticing that someone was inside, but unable to make them out clearly without his glasses. _Stupid leech faces. _

The person in the cage reached out towards him, and he realized that it was a child. "Don't worry kid, I'm coming." He ran down the aisle and climbed onto the stage, preparing to break the lock with his wrench. Then the boy pointed behind him, and he looked behind in confusion, and heard the sound of iron being shred with inhuman force. Returning his gaze to the child, he saw that the cage had been torn apart, and that there were not one, but two children. The girl looked remarkably similar to the boy, sharing his grey eyes and straight black hair. They were dressed in faded blue overalls, and shorts.

And they were both looking up at him with cruel smiles.

And blood seeping down the side of their foreheads. _This was wrong. Something was very, very, wrong here. _"What…who…" They giggled at his confusion and glanced at one another before they started to shake violently. "Woah, kids, are you okay?" They didn't respond, instead, black fluid pooled around their eyes, and their eyeballs popped out. The senior looked down at the eyes, and took a step back as the black liquid leaked out of their eyes, nose and mouths. Wire and nails began to float up from the ground and fly towards Stan. The stunned old man leaped to the side, but found that the objects stabbed themselves into the children, extracting screams from them. The barb wire wrapped itself around their torsos' and the nails bored into their ribcages, and the green blood which they bled began to hiss and glow.

Stan ran forward and tried to stop the mutilation, but one of the children smacked him in the side with a sledgehammer when he neared them, and giggled when he crumpled to the floor. The blood glowed harder, and their flesh began to writhe like a sea of maggots as they fused together. Stan opened his eyes to see a two head, four armed, three legged monstrosity smiling back. The girl held an axe in her two arms, and the boy a hammer, and their matching outfits were stained by blood, green puss and black slime.

_"Let us-_let's_ play-_play a_ game-_game, sister dear." "Oh,_ what-_what game were_ I-_you_ thought_-thinking of, oh brother dear?" "Hide-an-seek." Stan staggered to his feet and grabbed his fallen wrench. "Oh,_ looky-_look, _he's_-he's_ insane_-mad_ nowadays-_now." The girl giggled, and the boy continued to smile as they stepped towards him. Taking a few steps back, the elder's face tightened as he neared the edge of the stage. _"So-so succulent." _The boy whispered, before the amalgamation dived forward. In an attempt to escape their dual strikes, Stanford fell of the stage, but landed on his feet and ran towards the exit as the monster climbed off the stage. When he was only a few feet from freedom, two of the leech-faced monsters entered, hissing and drooling. _Shit! _Realizing that he couldn't take them both on, the elder turned and ran to the left, trying not to pay heed to the giggles and hisses of his pursuers. Just as he reached the left wall he realized that there was a pile of broken cages obstructing escape. Cursing under his breath he looked back and saw the monsters were hot on his heels, and the merged children were moving diagonally, so as to block his escape should he run towards the stage. After a moment's hesitation, he picked up a discarded bar, and launched it like a javelin, striking the first worm-face in the mouth, and watching as it collapsed and bled from the mouth excessively.

He cheered for himself, but then the other leech monster, angered by the death of its companion charged toward him. With only seconds, Stan picked up a bar, and stabbed it in the direction of his attacker. There was an awful SHUNK sound, and he opened his eyes to see the beast impaled upon the bar. _The idiot ran too fast. _Stan struggled to hold the corpse above the ground, and tossed the bar aside with a smile.

Only to see the fusion of flesh was almost upon him. The senior ducked out of the way as an axe was swung at him, and he darted over the seats, dodging the metal bars which the beast threw at him. "_Come_-come back _Stanford_-Stan, you can't _run from-_escape _what-_what _he-_you've _did-_done." The old man ignored them, and leapt back onto the stage, disappearing behind the curtain.

It was dark and grimy back here, and the floor boards creaked mercilessly. There was pile atop pile of boxes, and once Stan turned on his flashlight, he saw a doorway. A statue leaned against the inside of the door frame, forcing Stan to press his back to the left side of the frame, and suck in his breath. Just as he had almost inched through the doorway, the curtains were torn aside, and the monster ran towards him. Stan's squeezed past the last bit of the statue, and watched as the monster struggled to fit in such a small place. The old man smirked, and ran down the steps leading out of the tent and off the stage.

He found that there was a sort of hallway formed by stacks of empty cages his legs were burning and he wasn't sure if he could possibly run anymore. But with the knowledge that he had to, the exhausted intruder took a breath and began sprinting towards freedom, only to trip on something moments after taking off, and crashing down to his knees. "Ah shit!" He heard the stomping of three feet stumbling down the wood stairs, and looked behind to see that the monster was within arm's reach. _Oh fuck. _Then he noticed what had tripped him. A triple barreled shotgun lay at his feet; it gleamed in the light of his fallen flashlight. Grabbing it he pointed the gun towards his attacker just in time to feel a hammer slam into the back of his hand. He screamed in agony as the gun rolled across the floor, and clutched his shattered hand as he tried to crawl backwards.

The monster reached for him, but the resourceful senior rolled out of the way and dashed towards his weapon. An axe slammed into his right shoulder and he screamed louder, tears brought to his eyes as he fell over. The shotgun was inches of reach. "Don't worry it you'll-doesn't hurt that much…" a hand with too many fingers gripped his collar and began to pull him into the air. With just an ounce of fight left in him, the con man kicked the monster in its male face, and was dropped to the ground. Stan moaned in pain, but pulled himself forward, and despite the pain that raked his body, he grabbed the shot gun and fired directly into the face of his opponent. The screams of pain brought him no pleasure, though he knew that they weren't real children. He fired again while the twisted abomination was still stunned, and watched as the monster fell backwards and crashed into the wooden platform. The injured shyster forced himself to stand and glanced over only to see the body slowly evaporating.

Groaning, and clenching his teeth, Stanford continued on his way. The pain in his shoulder was piercing, and his hand still stung, and hurt if he clenched. _C'mon there's got to be something around here somewhere that I can use as a bandage? _Just then, as he was walking past a few rotting shoot booths, a loud and highly disruptive voice nearly deafened him. "HELLO S-SIR! YOU L-LOOK LIKE Y-Y-YOU COUL-COULD USE A G-G-GOOD O-OLD-FASHIONED AMPOULE!" The stunned old man turned and saw a robotic man moving slightly back and forth on the other side of a counter. He was surrounded by rotting shelves, most empty, but a few of them had these strange looking bottles resting on them. The animatronic wore a blue suit with a top hat, and a blue tuxedo, both pieces of clothing were falling apart. The mechanical man had clearly once sported a mustache, but by now it hung loose and swung like a pendulum in the wind.

"WE-WE-WELL? T-TRY IT! THE F-FIRST ONES ON M-ME PAL!" The robot spent a few moments struggling to grab one of the bottles, clearly rusted over years of over use; it was falling apart at the seams. "What the hell are you?" There was no response, clearly whatever the hell this thing was; it was never programmed to answer correctly. Sparks shot out of the gap between its right arm and shoulder as it grabbed one of the bottles, and handed it to him. "Uhhh thanks…" The robot just kept staring at him with those empty white eyes. Feeling pressured to drink the stranger concoction, and already extremely hungry and thirsty, Stan grabbed the bottle and gulped it down in but a few seconds. At first it seemed to have no effect, except to quench his thirst, and it left a nasty sting on his tongue. It tasted disgusting, like lemon juice mixed with dog piss.

Then he felt a shiver run through his body, and the world stared to light up. Yellow and pink light blinded him and created dozens of sunspots which danced across his vision painfully. He felt the pain in his shoulder melt into a new, fiery pain, which slowly dissipated. The same thing happened to his hand, and his leg, and then the little cut which lay on his eyebrow. When the light faded away, and he re-opened his eyes, he smiled to find that all his wounds were gone. "W-WOULD Y-Y-YOU LIKE TO B-B-BUY ONE?" Stan smiled, "Sorry, "pal" I ain't paying!" He reached past the robot and grabbed four bottles. The robotic gentleman tried to stop him, but it moved too slowly and he laughed as he ran off, stuffing the bottles into his pockets. _If I make it out with just one of these things, I'm gonna be rich!_

He disappeared through the maze of tents.

**-=0=-**

_**Hope you enjoy this. I also hope that the "Gemini" (the twin monster) fits Silent Hill at least a little bit. I'm really trying to make the monsters seem otherworldly. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**-=0=-**

Dipper's legs felt like they were burning, and his throat croaked from overuse. The overcast had still not left, but the blue tint to the air made it clear that it was twilight. _Darkness brings out the monsters. _He sighed at the memory of finding that note inside The Journal, trying to diffuse its relevance to this current situation. He had already stopped once before to catch his breath and consult the Journal about evil voices from inside phonographs. Finding nothing, he had returned to searching for his lost relatives. But all the while howls, whimpers, screams, and even giggles reached his ears, and distracted him maddeningly. But whenever he ran towards the source of these sounds, all he found was more fog. He blamed this on the entity responsible for tying up that corpse back there, and mocking him over the phonograph. _Bill's got a twisted sense of humor, but what kind of demon pretends to be a DJ? Why would a place like this even HAVE a DJ?_

He groaned, and turned the corner onto King Avenue, expecting to see more boarded up houses. However, he was surprised to find that the streetlight was on. _Who turned it on? _He carefully made his way towards it, unable to trust anything at the moment. The light was that dying yellow that was so often given off by such devices, except that this one seemed to turn more yellow as he got closer, almost reaching a lemon color. The light blinked, and Dipper stopped moving, as if rooted in place. Smiling at his own paranoia, the young detective stepped closer. Only to see a dark slit slide across the bulb and stare down at him like a reptilian eyeball. The light moved with it, and all of a sudden, the world slowed down. Dipper could feel the dryness of his lips, the wetness which soaked his sneakers, and the cold that shivered up his spine, and then…heat.

The light turned red, and his skin felt like it was heating up, at first only uncomfortably, but then painfully. Putting two and two together, Dipper raised a foot and began attempting to run out of the spotlight. It was torture, the heat continuing to accelerate even when it felt like it couldn't get hotter. He would scream in pain, but was moving to for the sound to while under the oppressive yellow rays. Then one of his hands had left the spotlight, and he saw that it was covered in burns. Then a foot, then his head. The burnt sleuth gasped for oxygen and felt his body return to normal speed. He staggered out of the light, and felt the scream get caught in the back of his throat. His throat was extremely dry, painfully so, much worse than any sore throat that he had ever had. Licking the inside of his mouth, the injured pre-teen found that he had little to no saliva left.

Then he heard the hissing of extreme heat against tar, and glanced behind to see that the streetlight was moving its deadly ray in his direction. _Not today you hunk of scrap. _He ran as fast as his worn legs could carry him, and rounded the corner, entering Bierce Str. only to find another streetlight, this one was scanning the street, moving it's light back and forth as it searched for him. _Goddamit. _For a brief moment he considered breaking into one of these houses and going to sleep in a stranger's bed (if there even were any beds left in these abandoned shacks). But he had already tried breaking into one of these houses previously, and found that there was no way inside, they were sealed like a miser's strongbox. And he knew that if he slept out in the dark, then the creatures who had taken Stan and Mabel would most likely catch him. So, forced to keep moving forward, he glanced around the street, trying to determine whether or not there was shelter. _Even if I get past this one, what then? I'll have to sleep sometime…_

Just as he met this discouraging realization, the victim of the town's dark power noticed that a house, slightly larger than the others, stood at the end of the block, and had an open window. The drapes fluttered in the chilly breeze, almost invitingly. His eyes returned to the demonic device which stood between him and safety. Then he sprinted towards the bushes on the opposite side of the street, just making it before the light touched him. Ducking as far down as possible, Dipper removed his trademark cap, and stuffed it inside his vest, hoping to fool the searing cyclop's.

He could feel the intensity of the heat as the light turned from yellow to red in a flash, and the bush began to crackle underneath the heat. The only reason the overgrown plant had not burst into flames, was most likely due to the soggy weather. The light turned back to yellow, and began scanning elsewhere. Dipper breathed a heavy sigh of relief and thanked god that streetlights didn't have ears. Then he braced himself, and sprinted towards the house, feel the heat of the spotlight sing the back of his neck. His heart was pounding, his legs were turning to jelly, and he found himself tripping over them in his desperation, and crying out as he stumbled towards his destination. _If it gets me this time I'm literally toast._

He reached the window just as the light caught him, and fell inside. At first the light passed through the window, and the exhausted pre-teen had to pull his body against the wall, moving his sneakered feet so that the deadly red light would not touch them. After a few moments, the contraption gave up, and the light disappeared. Smiling, Dipper exhaled and walked over the window, shutting it and pulling the drapes together. Then, with considerable effort, he pushed a grimy bookcase against it, happy that the case was empty. Panting and heaving, the young escapee stumbled back and forth. He hadn't felt this tired since the time he had regained ownership of his body from Bill. The memory of Mabel carrying him to the car after she found out he needed to visit the hospital put a small smile on his tired face. But worry creased his brow as he entered a darkened room, and the memory served to remind him that his sister was most likely tied up somewhere out there.

_Why? Why can't these things just leave her be, she doesn't deserve any of this! _

His right hand clenched and unclenched in anger as he a tried to locate a switch with his left hand. Smiling he flicked it the moment he succeeded, and covered his eyes as blinding light filled the room. As his dark brown eyes adjusted to the sudden light, he spotted a big, brown, ripped up couch standing on the other side of the room. To his right there was a table that probably once supported a TV. The room was lit obnoxiously well by a singular bulb which clung to the fan above. Two other blubs hung next to it, but they were broken, and of no use. As light filled the room he spotted a swarm of fleeing roaches escape out the doorway leading to the kitchen.

Dipper shut the door, despite knowing that the insects would return, slipping in form the creak where the oaken door failed to meet the carpet. Then he sat down on the couch, and removed his vest, taking care to smooth out the wrinkles created on his precious cap, before placing it on the arm of the couch. Then he reclined, and pulled the vest over his goose bump infested legs, enjoying the mild warmth created. Opening up the journal, he removed a pencil from his pocket, and began to sketch a picture of the streetlight on one of the blank pages towards the end of the book. It wasn't long before he succumbed to his drowsiness.

**-=0=-**

Mabel sneezed, and she became completely still for several seconds. When she realized that she had not alerted any nearby monster's to her presence, she continued climbing up the muddy hill, her hippo boots smeared with muck, and torn from the "huggers" attack, covered in scratches just big enough that the mud seeped inside, staining her pink butterfly pattern socks, and squelching between her toes. Her face was a sea of cuts and bruises, most of which received from hiding inside brambles, and being forced to crawl under barb wire at increased speeds. The determined tween's sights were set on the concrete tube which stuck out of the mud not ten feet above, it appeared to have been part of the nearby construction work, but left behind along with the uncompleted apartment complex (which was just a mess of structural beams weaving amidst one another, with little to no floor). _What happened here to make so many people leave so quickly?_

Mabel was certain that this would be a good place to sleep, as it was high off the ground, which meant further away from her faceless poseurs, and that she wouldn't get (as) wet during the night. The only problem was that it was situated atop a mountain of impregnable muck, which gave in at the slightest touch, but also held on to your shoes like a king of quagmires. However, the girl of only twelve years kept on climbing, images of her family's dependence on her not being killed/captured forcing her on. When she finally reached the summit, she collapsed inside the tunnel, tugging her legs inside, and pulling her sweater down over them. She shivered in the damp cold, and removed the radio which she had found after exiting the park. For some reason unbeknownst to her, the radio started acting up when a monster was nearby, which would have hindered her more then helped her if the monster's payed any attention to the static noise. She had also found that it played happy-go-lucky songs occasionally, and she desperately needed more of those.

Placing the useful device to her side, she pulled a big green sleeve up her arm to smile down at the band which Dipper had made for her on their seventh birthday. While the boy had not been an amazing artist, but the treasured bracelet depicted a vaguely realistic Dipper holding hands with a vaguely realistic Mabel. Both smiled back up at her, and she avoided their gaze in favor of staring out at the foggy town which she was currently trapped in.

Somewhere out there, he was waiting.

And she was gonna find him.

**-=0=-**

Stan hated hospitals. They cost too much, and yet they tried to swindle you out of more money. And the nurses were always prancing around in their all too short skirts. The lights were too bright; the floor was too clean, in that unnatural way that everyone seemed to think was "modern". The employees always gave him that fake smile bullcrap which he oh-so detested. Worst of all, they were places of death. He was sure that if Death was a person, then he would know more about hospitals then graveyards, because more people died in hospitals than anywhere else.

However, he had been running down a street trying to see if there was any place where he could rest, and regain his bearings, when a telephone rang. Not from inside one of the buildings, but rather, a public telephone, the most abandoned machine this side of the blimp _rang on its own_. At first he had been stunned, he didn't know why this was so much more shocking then being attacked by otherworldly monsters, but he still approached the public phone with the caution of a man stumbling upon the body of a fallen foe, unable to tell if it was really a corpse or if the heathen would jump up and strange him the moment he got within range. Picking up the phone, he coughed out an awkward "Uh…hello?" A low almost murmuring voice fill the other end of the line, startling the senior, _"Hello? Are you Stanford Pines?"_ "Who the hell is this?" The confused elder replied. _"My uh…name isn't important, what is important is that I have something you want and you have something I want."_

His faced screwed up in rage, "If you DARE, touch a hair on their heads, I will personally-" The man on the other end of the line interrupted, "No, no, no…what I mean is I have a car, with gas, nod enough room to bring you and…umm, whoever it is your trying to save back to civilization." "Okay, okay, slow down. First off; who the hell are you?" _"My name is Archibald. Archibald Lust." _"Did your parent's hate you?" The only response he got was nervous laughter. "All right, second off; how did you call me?" _"I figured out how to use some of the town's magic for my own…purposes. Me and my-broth-ah, _assistant,_ discovered some power here and were ummm, harnessing it when something went wrong…anyway the only thing that matters is that I figured out how to call people via the public telephones. And watch via the city's security cameras by missing the wiring with a Circle of Knowledge. It's the same way I know your name, and that your looking for someone."_ "All right, third off, where are you?' _"I'm at the old hospital, the one on the top of the hill…I'm locked away in the security room. I've been here for quite some, ah…oh what was it…ah yes, time! Yes, as you can hear, I'm beginning to go a bit _stir crazy_. Nowhere to go, no one to umm, to-talk-to, yes there we go…and nothing-well, nothing to do. Truth be told you are the first person that umm, I have spoken with in…well I don't think they have _time_ here. Let's just say it's been very, very, long. *Cough* I'm sorry for droning on, my bro-_assistant_ always said that I did, and it was that plus the um, stuttering, that made it hard to work with. The uh, the car I mentioned is in the garage, an ambulance…it'll help us-umm, you escape. You and your ah, _friends_." _

Stan was an expert in lying, and despite how suspicious this man was, he could sense genuine emotion in his voice. The man and no matter how much he wanted to find Mabel and Dipper, he knew that escape would be fruitless without a getaway vehicle. "Okay Archie, I'll bite. But what is it that you want in return?" There was silence on the other end for a long moment, followed by some shuffling, and a banging noise. Then, finally, he was given a response. _"You have to take me with you. I've got the key, and I can help you find whoever it is you are looking for, you just have to-"_ "What did you think I was going to leave someone in this hellhole?" he could hear the smile in the nervous voice, _"R-really? You'll take me with you? You'll have to get me out of the security room, there's a bunch of ch-m-monsters at the door trying to get in…"_ Stan sighed, "You sound like you could be a lot of help, besides what's a few more twisted abominations eh?" Archibald gave a nervous laugh, then there was a louder banging noise, and the line went dead.

And so, praying that this venture wasn't in vain, Stan headed towards the hospital. He was exhausted beyond belief by the time he reached it, and checked his watch only to see that it was four AM. _God, this better be worth it. _The front doors were locked, forcing him to find another way in. After circling the building it was determined that the only way in was through an open window, and the only way to reach that window was via the fire escape. Stan had to shoot the metal sliding ladder with his last shotgun shell. _Back to bashing their faces in with a wrench. _Sighing, he began to ascend the ladder, his age showing when he had to stop at the top of the ladder and catch his breath.

_I am too old for this crap, not to mention I really need to get some sleep…_

He rubbed the bags beneath his eyes, and began to climb the rusty staircase, leaning against the railing for support. Unforgiving gusts of wind struck him, as he battled the pain in his back and legs. Finally reaching the open window, Stan almost slumped forward and fell in. Instead, he leaned against the wall, took a moment to catch his breath, before entering the place that he so readily hated.

**-=0=-**

_**I'm sorry this is shorter then the other's, the next chapter will be up soon. Leave a review if you like, and don't be shy about favoriting/following MWUA! See you soon! **_


	4. Chapter 4

**-=0=-**

Dipper stood on the edge of a blood-soaked field; cockroaches skittered past his feet as he stared across the massacre and at a dark cloud on the horizon. But this cloud was not like one that you could see in the sky, there were no clouds in this sky, although he wished there were. He wished it was overcast so he wouldn't see the fiery churn of void above whenever he looked up. No, the cloud was black and dense, filled with little white sparks that hissed and exploded when they crashed into one another.

There was no horizon behind the cloud, as if it was so large that half of this planet was nothing but it. And slowly, yet surely, the cloud changed from a speck in the distance to a blot on the fiery sky, and then to a tower, and then it was right upon him, and he was running through the tall grass that scraped his legs, and drew blood. The young victim began running faster than he ever had, his legs aching unmercifully, he felt the dust churned into the air by the cloud choke his lungs. He stumbled forward and collapsed on his side, pain shooting through him.

Spitting out grass, he tried to raise himself from the ground, but felt foot slam into his side. He hissed in pain, and collapsed again, staring up at his attacker in shock. Stan smiled down at him, a baseball bat in his hands. There was a *THOCK* sound as it collided with his face, and his nose broke, spraying blood across his face. He rolled over and tried to call out for her, but found that with every word the world became darker and darker. "S-Stan…p-please…help me…" He shook her head and giggled as he tried to reach toward her. "You forgot you stupid kid…" The cloud took hold of him and pulled him backwards, his body rolling across the hard ground as he heard his tormentor's message; _"Trust no one…"_

Dipper sat up with a start, his mind buzzing like a shaken wasp nest. Panting heavily, he glanced around the room. The light was out for some reason, and he could hear the bugs crawling back and forth across the rotting floorboards. I_t was just a dream, he would never do that. Never. _The memory of Stan fighting off zombies to protect them came to mind and he smiled. He clutched his chest, trying to reassure himself so that his heart would stop throbbing in a nearly painful manner. He coughed violently, and cleared his throat. Removing his vest from atop his legs, he shivered and scrunched his goose bump covered legs up against the rest of his form. Then he slipped on the vest, grabbed his cap, and touched the floor tentatively with one of his toes, before hopping off the couch, and slipping on his sneakers. Unable to tie them in the dark, he stumbled over to the wall, and flipped on the switch, the light flickered briefly, and Dipper almost thought he saw a creature staring at him from behind the couch during one flicker, then the light came on, and he shielded his eyes.

As his irises' adjusted to the light, the young sleuth gasped when he saw what was written on the wall. _HE LIES_ was painted across the wall in blood, or if not blood, a convincing substitute that smell and trickled exactly the same way. Dipper licked his dry lips and turned away. _Like I'm gonna trust some weird demon._ He entered the kitchen and searched for anything that might be useful. He found no food, which made his stomach ache, a dead rat, covered in maggots, which caused him to retreat into the bathroom and vomit into the sink. After returning, he walked over the corpse without touching it, and opened the kitchen drawer. The only thing in there, was a steak knife. He slipped it into the pocket of his vest, and tried to get some water from the faucet, but all that came out was this weird green goop.

Unable to even quench his thirst, he groaned, and walked back to the hall where he had entered this house. _Maybe there will be something I can eat or drink later. _ He glanced at the message at the beginning of the journal, the same one from his dream, before putting it under one arm and returning to the hall that held the window with which he had entered this residence. Checking the grandfather clock, the intrepid twelve year old determined that it was seven thirty-three, before he began moving the case out of the way. Then he glanced out the window and checked the street to make sure that there weren't any more streetlights. Finding that they were still there but appeared to be shut off, he thanked his lucky stars that things were at least a little bit easier. Then he climbed out of the window, staggering as he landed on his feet. Just as he left the confines of the decrepit house, he heard and earth shattering sound, and turned to see a plume of fire extending forth from what appeared to be a hospital. _Guess I know where to go next. _He tightened his hold on his prize journal and checked to make sure he still had the knife, a nervous movement that made no real sense in hindsight.

Then he ran off in the direction of the hospital.

**-=0=-**

Mabel opened her eyes. She could tell it was early; the light which filtered down through the clouds was orange and new. The mountains obstructed her view of the rising sun, but the idea of a new day still put a smile on her face. She grabbed her radio, and stepped outside the tube, stretching back and forth, and trying to get a better look around. _If I was evil and wanted to lock people up, where would I hide? _Looking back and forth, she noticed the most evil looking building that she had seen was standing on a hill across town. It was an intimidating mansion, armed with spires; it had an enormous gate and appeared to have gargoyles sitting on its balconies. _If anything is an evil hideout then that place is._

A determined look on her face, Mabel slid down the pile of mud, and started walking in the direction of mansion, "Hold you in my arms" played on the radio as she began to weave between the houses, and avoid the army of thorny armed monsters which stumbled down the streets in search of her.

**-=0=-**

_Three hours ago…_

Stan slammed the butt of his shotgun into one of the faceless nurses, and watched as it stumbled back and crash into a discarded medical table. It's comrades continued to close in on him, some holding rusty pipes, while other's wielded immense rusty needles, filled with green sedatives. "Get outta here you faceless morons!" He kicked one away, and swung the wrench into another, taking no pleasure in the awful cracking noise that was produce. He turned and fired off the shell he had found in a room two stories below. It sent two of the phaux-nurses flying backwards, and slamming into the wall. He raided the weapons in each hand, swatting them back and forth in front of him to keep the mindless creatures away. A leaped onto him from behind and stabbed it's serum into his shoulder. The elder screamed in agony, and reached behind him, punching the nurse off, he tore the needle out just as his vision started to blur.

Glancing up, he saw the nurses closing in on him, swatting him with their rusty pipes, trying to stab him again, some mewling as their heads twitched spasmodically. The injured con man stumbled back, trying to stop the world from spinning. A pipe connected with his abdomen, and he groaned and clutched his side. The weapon was coated in gore, and lead, unlike any pipe that people still used. As his vision began to clear up, Stan ducked to the side as one of them tried to charge him, swinging his wrench out in place of his body, and slamming the rusty tool into the thick and squishy flesh of his foe. Realizing that he had dropped his shotgun, the former boxer punched/bashed his way through the mob, and picked up the vital weapon.

Hearing a moan coming from down the hall, he saw two of those twin monsters charging towards him. They were followed by a swarm of leech-faced monsters, which ran on all fours like dogs, there pink fleshy tongues swiping along the sides of their mouths, as they approached their newest meal. Now officially screwed, Stan did the second best thing to fighting; running. Despite his age he was able to outrun his attackers, at first. He began to run out of breath whereas the monsters remained persistent in fulfilling their one purpose, to kill him. Just as Stan was about to collapse, a door opened up ahead, and a relatively young man stuck his head out, and beckoned the newcomer forward.

Taking a deep breath, he used up his last bit of energy running forwards, and the man pulled him inside, before shutting the door closed, and pushing a table in front of it to prevent the entrance of the soulless creatures residing in the hall. As Stan lay on the ground for a moment, trying to regain his senses, the man walked over to the wall of monitors, and pointed a desk lamp in his direction, nearly blinding the elderly survivor. "Yeesh, get that thing outta my eyes!" Stan was unable to see the man's face until he pointed the lamp towards himself and stepped forward to help him up. The man was skinny in build; he had motley strands of a beard clinging to his chin, which was unusually sharp. His eyes were a faded blue, clouded over by shock and trauma. His hair was a mess of dark locks that hung over part of his face and covered his ears completely. "Mr. Archibald Lust, I presume?" The man smiled and pulled his companion to his feet, "That's me." he took a step back when Stan reached his full height, "You're a lot taller then you look on the screens…" The man stepped aside and showed his guest the wall of monitors, and Stan stared at the screens in amazement. They were each covered in this small circle of blood, and they flashed between a series of images, some looking like security footage, others looking like TV shows, and still others looking like they were porno clips.

"Umm, impressive I guess." the man nodded as he walked closer, leaning across the desk and staring at his creation with a haunting smile. The shyster was about to ask how this man procured that blood, when he noticed the mess of scars which crisscrossed the man's arms. "How did you get food?" the man licked his lips, "I ran to the broken vending machine." Stna got a hopeful look on his face, "So umm, you do have the key right? You weren't just desperate..."

The well hid sorcerer glanced up from his creation, surprised. "No, of course not…" he reached onto the desk and plucked up some keys, causing them to jangle as he stepped forward and dropped them into Stan's hand. "If you'll just let me grab my things then I'll lead you to the quickest way down to the parking compound."The elder glanced down at the keys, before nodding and watching as his new ally began grabbing rifling through piles of trash, in search of useful items.

**-=0=-**

Mabel kept her arms spread out her side as she crossed the bridge made of crumbling concrete, refusing to look down at the dusty void below. _What kind of earthquake could have caused this much damage? Also, do they even have earthquakes in Oregon? _Brushing this confusion aside, she tried to control the vertigo which was affecting her at the moment, and as she felt the rock give way below her feet, she leaped forward. Her hands landed on the other side, and she pulled herself to her feet, looking up to see a huge metal gate standing between her and the mansion.

Stepping forward, she pressed her hand against the rusty iron bars, and groaned. _Why does this have to be so hard? _Taking a step back she kicked the metal bar with her boot in frustration, and howled, leaping up and down as pain rocketed through her tired foot. She looked around, hoping to see away to climb gate. She didn't find what she was looking for, but she did spot a school bus, that teetered on the edge of the abyss. Biting her lip, the pre-teen hesitated, before running over to the precariously positioned device.

The yellow paint had been mostly scrapped off, causing the bus to appear to be a bucket of rust. Walking around to the right side of it, the young brunette smiled when she saw that the door was open. She climbed on board slowly, taking care to not make any sudden movements. _C'mon Mabel now is not a time to get squashed at the bottom of some demonic pit. Now is the time to knock over some demonic gates with a school bus like a boss! _Just as she had reached the steering wheel, a cruel reached her ears, and the startled brunette slipped, causing the bus to slide forward slightly. Regaining her balance, Mabel turned to see that another monster stood at the back of the bus.

It's face was covered by a porcelain mask, something that the stranded pre-teen was thankful for, because if the creature's face had rotted half as much as the rest of it, then it would look utterly detestable. The creature had long claws, and the raggedy hair which hung at its side's, and the ample breasts which were barely concealed by bloody bandages showed that this creature was some dark god's idea of a woman. It cackled again, and stumbled forward, causing the buss to slide further towards the edge. Mabel grabbed a piece of shattered glass, accidentally cutting the palm of her hand in her haste, and threw the piece of glass at the rotting hag. The walking corpse shuddered, and stopped in its tracks for a moment.

Then a wasp flew out the hole in front of the mouth. It landed on a seat next to Mabel, and shifted about on its six spiny legs. The hag moved forward yet again, and Mabel tried to reason with it. "Stop moving now! Do you want to die?" The creature did not respond, instead two more wasps exited it's mouth. One of them flew close to the unprotected pre-tee, and Mabel staggered backwards, causing the bus to slide even further off the precipice. The creature hissed and five or six more wasps exited it's mouth, circling the bus, before closing in on the frightened twelve year old.

Realizing that she was moments away from a very nasty fall, the brunette tensed, and rushed towards the exit. She heard the monster scream, and the buzz of hundreds of wasps as she slammed the door closed behind her, and the bus finally toppled into the void below. Watching it fall, Mabel leapt away from the edge as the ground beneath her feet crumbled away, and the fear of the wasps rising out of the pit vengefully occurred to her. _Great. Now what? _Turning away from the gorge, she was surprised to see a school standing not two hundred yards from her position. Smiling she ran towards the school, hoping that there were more school buses parked behind it.

**-=0=-**

Dipper stood in front of the burning hospital, trying t prepare himself for whatever lay inside. He pushed the unattended door open, and entered the facility to find that it was incredibly dark. Striking one of the matches he had found yesterday, he raised it into the air. The door banged shut behind him, and he jumped, causing the flame to disappear. Groaning he tossed it aisde, and grabbed another, and began striking it. No dice. The match snapped after he became annoyed and pushed excessively. Groaning in frustration, he tore another out of the pack, causing a few of them to spill to the ground. It lit the moment he struck it, and smile of relief cross the pre-teen's face.

As Dipper raised the match into the air, he became petrified by what was surrounding him. There were, fifteen or twenty so nurses, all devoid of facial features, staring down at him. From every direction and angle. He was trapped. The twelve year old reached into his vest with his left hand, and tugged out the kitchen knife. The nurses leapt at him, and he stabbed the knife forward, closing is eyes as he felt it dig into flesh. Smiling, he pulled it out and whipped it around, slamming it into another one. He ducked to the side as he heard the swish of a metal bar being swung downwards, and stabbed in the direction of the owner of the weapon. Opening his eyes, he screamed, and let go of the knife. It didn't fall to the floor, instead it remained imbedded in the chest of his best friend.

"W-Wendy? H-How…" Blood soaked her green flannel shirt, and she looked down at him with _tears in her eyes. The knife had gone straight through her right breast, and was most likely_ piercing her heart. She chocked, and blood dribbled down her chin as she fell forwards. "No...no…how did she? No…no…" Dipper tried to lift her up, but found it too difficult. Instead he flipped her on her side, only to have a lead pipe slam into his back. Groaning, he tipped over and looked up to see one of the nurses grab his foot and tug him across the floor and towards the darkness. He struggled, ignoring the pain that resounded through his bruised back. He kicked at the nurse, but it merely responded by whacking his thigh with its pipe. He shrieked, and wriggled like a worm on a hook.

His eyes closed briefly, causing the tears which had pooled there to spread. Then he felt the grip on his ankle disappear, and the pain in his thigh and back vanished. The nurse raised him in the air, and tossed him into a pool of blood. His throat, clogged with the red fluid, and he groped the air as he sank in the thick plasma. The nurse walked away, its pipe dragging across the ground as its victim drown. Dipper's got one last hazy look at the world before everything went black.

**-=0=- **

Opening his eyes, Dipper recognized the entrance to the hospital standing before him. _What the hell happened? _Dazed, he rose to his feet and realized that he was completely dry. Feeling around in his vest, he realized that the knife was still there, and it was clean of blood. Startled, he reached into his pocket and removed the box of matches. They were all there. Sitting down on the steps, he wiped sweat from his forehead, and looked down at the box for a long moment. _It had felt so real, the cold of the inside, the unholy heat of the nurse's hand against his skin, the steady flow of blood. The piercing pain. How could all of that been a hallucination? It had to be though. _

But it had been incredibly lifelike, just like the dream which had plagued him this morning. Shaking his head, the young detective got to his feet, and opened one of the thick wooden doors, and stepping inside, he observed the movement at the end of the central hall. _Okay, let's try this a second time. _Running down a side hallway, he stopped in his tracks when he saw one of those faceless nurses standing in front of a corpse. Slowly, carefully, he ran forwards, and stabbed the knife into its back, only faltering for a second. The creature wriggled around, and then collapsed. Dipper looked at the corpse that the creature had been or rather hadn't been staring at. It was a small body, covered in a shroud. _Mabel? _

Panic racked his body, and he through off the sheet.

It was the corpse of a chimp. It's arms too long and lender, it had been shaved, and there were marks all over the top of its head, like it had been lobotomized. He sighed in relief, and stepped away from the corpse, stumbling backwards upon the fallen nurse, the pre-teen fell to the cold and grunted in pain. Pushing himself back up, he realized that a swarm of nurses were standing at the beginning of the central hall. For a moment he was frozen by the sheer number of them, and they continued their eyeless stare. Then Dipper leaped to his feet, and the deathly silence ended. The nurses started charging towards him, their pipes held high, ready to strike. Their victim ignored them, and sped down the side hallway, pushing a medical table in their direction to try and slow them down.

The ceiling was on fire, causing bits of burning debris to fall around him as he raced toward his only means of escape. The elevator at the end of this hallway was kept open only by the arm of a corpse, which the elevator door continued to slam against, on an endless loop. It was as if the person had been reaching towards salvation when they were struck down. Dipper tried to concentrate on the task at hand and ignore thoughts like that. He climbed over the dead man, and kicked his arm out of the way, allowing the doors to close. FLOOR 3 had already been selected, and the elevator followed the path that whoever had been in here last had set.

Dipper glanced around, noticing that the elevator was fairly clean compared to the rest of the hospital. An unfortunately familiar voice came on the radio, playing in the stead of annoying elevator music. _"All staff on Floor 3 should prepare to deliver lethal injections to our unfortunate guest, little Dipper Pines." Stupid voice. "I want you all to know that he's been a good sport, but, must leave our company due to issues with the family." _The elevator came to a shuddering halt, and the twelve year old glanced around, trying to find the cause of the phenomena. _"You really don't get it, you little ape…" _He ignored the voice, and groaned when he noticed the sign that was nailed down on the right side of the elevator. DO NOT USE ELEVATOR IN CASE OF FIRE. _How could that sign possibly be useful, while only in here? _

Shaking his head, Dipper pulled himself on top of the gold colored rail that ran around the inside of the metal coffin. Hugging the wall with one hand, he reached for the trapdoor on the ceiling, but found it too high up. Standing on his tippy-toes, his fingers snaked around the handle, before he went toppling off the edge. Groaning, he wiped the blood off his broken nose, and climbed back on the railing, trying again, and this time, succeeding. _"Woopdy doo, so you can open a door. That means your frontal lobe hasn't been chewed off yet." _Ignoring the insistent voice, he hung onto the trap door, and pulled himself onto the roof of the elevator. Glancing around the vertical tunnel, he smiled when he saw that Floor 3 was within arm's reach, and ran to that side of the elevator. The metal box budged, and he tensed instinctively. Thankful that he hadn't fallen to his doom, he jumped up nad swung his arms onto the floor above, just grabbing the edge. The elevator moved a little bit, before it's cord snapped, and it was sent hurtling downwards, crashing at the bottom in a heap.

His legs swinging loose in the air, Dipper used his last bit of strength to pull himself up, and onto the third floor. Taking a glance down the abyss behind him, Dipper stepped forward and surveyed the scene before him. Fire was everywhere, on the ceiling, running rampant all over the floor, and climbing on the walls. Burnt nurses ran from one bonfire of bodies to another, unable to scream due to their lack of mouths. Horrified by the scene, Dipper coughed and stepped away from the clouding smoke and oppressive heat. Teetering on the edge, he grabbed the sides of the elevator door frame, to prevent falling backwards. Then it all changed.

The fire and the objects which it fed on started to disappear, the walls and ceiling sliding away from themselves, and being replaced. A golden glow and a black cloud covered much of the damage and disappeared, leaving behind an new floor (wooden floorboards), a new ceiling (one made of metal bars, and he turned to see the elevator shaft be replaced by a pit, filled with howling creatures that stuck out of the rock hideously, and scraped against the imprisonment with huge claws.

It was like watching God change scenes.

Dipper, both impressed and disturbed by the change, spoke to no one in a calm voice. "Wow…"

**-=0=-**

_**I hope you enjoy. For anyone who might be wondering, Archibald Lust is an original character. I'm sorry if the symbolism is all over the place, I'm trying to get the most I can out of the characters, and not drag this out too long, I imagine that this will end around eight or nine chapters. Thanks for reading, please drop a review if you are enjoying, and PM me if you have an idea for a monster slash puzzle which could be attributed to one of the characters. (Leave an extra review if you love the idea of The Radio Man as much as I do).**_


	5. Chapter 5

**-=0=-**

Mabel pushed open the doors of the school, glancing around the dusty hall in case there were more monsters. Besides row upon row of uniform, rusty lockers, and a few classroom doors, locked by decrepit chains, there was nothing. Smiling the brace-faced tween tip-toed inside, and glance around. Noticing the packet of bullets that lay near one of the doors, she ran over and stuffed it into her left hand pocket.

The bell inside the classroom exploded into a cacophony of banging, and the sound made Mabel stare up at the door in confusion, then become stuck like a deer in the headlights when one of the hag monsters slammed its arms through the glass window of the door, and started screeching. Regaining her senses, the alarmed pre-teen stumbled backwards and removed her stolen revolver. The creature thrashed twice as hard, and wasps escaped from the monster's innards, buzzing out and zooming in on Mabel the moment they noticed her. Swatting at the toxic insects, the twelve year old pointed her weapon in the direction of the trapped monster, and fired multiple times, watching as it squealed in pain.

Twice as many wasps were spat out from the lungs of the tormented abomination, and swarmed around her, stinging her eyes, her nose, her neck, and crawling around inside her sweater. Shrieking and swiping the air in vain, Mabel's distress was interrupted, as the door gave way, and the wasp spitter fell forward, crawling across the dusty floor and towards its screaming victim. Ignoring the searing pain, Mabel pushed the gun against the forehead of her opponent, and fired, closing her eyes as the monster wriggled around for a moment, and collapsed. Opening her eyes she watched in astonishment, as the corpse started to disappear into thin air, the wasps which had plagued her not moments ago, following their releaser's example.

Unfortunately, the stings that they had caused did not disappear with them.

Rubbing her wounds, and wincing because her hands brushed against the scrapes she had on her chest, the miniature brunette staggered to her feet, and began reloading her gun. Upon doing so, she entered the empty classroom from which her foe had escaped. Six rows of empty chairs stared back at her, and she turned her attention to the teacher's desk. A rotting apple sat atop the desk, worms visibly squirming around inside it. Despite her hunger, she ignored the spoiled fruit, and searched the desk drawers instead, hoping to find supplies.

Top left corner drawer? Nothing.

Bottom left drawer? Nothing.

Top right corner drawer? Nothing.

Bottom right drawer? Bandages.

Smiling at the fact that her persistence and optimism had paid off, Mabel wrapped her left hand (the one with the most stings) in the bandage, and smiled when she saw a bullet lying on the seat of the teacher's chair. _YES! Everything is coming up MABEL! _Slipping the projectile into her ammo pocket, she ran towards the door, and down the hall.

The next hall had one of the thorny monsters patrolling it, and Mabel had to crawl behind the concealed part of a tipped over table, and run between the scattered chairs that lay sparse in the hall, in order to avoid confrontation.

Running through the third hall, she spotted the exit, and ran towards it. She could even see buses through the glass window. Then a hand closed on her shoulder, its grip too tight to ever be confused for that of an ally. Whipping her head around, she stared up at the wasp-spitter in fear, and tried to untangle herself from its grasp. She failed, and the beast pulled her into the air, one hand digging itself into the fabric of her green sweater, while the other tightened around her neck, stifling her protests and causing her to gasp for air. She kicked against its upper legs and stomach, but the creature ignored the pain and stumbled over to one of the lockers.

It tore open the door to the metal box, and chucked the screaming pre-teen inside, slamming the door closed so hard that it jammed, and refused to budge open as Mabel pounded her fists against the inside of the door.

"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!" She stopped to nurse her bruised hands, and pressed her ear to the thin wall of metal, hearing nothing aside from the sound of footsteps. The brunette shifted in the tiny space, and tried kicking the door. After several kicks, her feet began to hurt terribly, and she realized there wasn't enough room for her to properly kick it without hurting herself as well. Wiping sweat from her brow, she began to inspect the door, trying to determine if there was a way she could wedge it open with a finger.

After running her fingers all around the edge three times, she came to the soul crushing conclusion that it was sealed too tightly for that to work. She positioned her feet against the ceiling, and tried to think up a Plan D. But she was too tired, and she was feeling too lightheaded to properly formulate a plan.

Just as she nodded off, it occurred to her that there was a limited amount of oxygen.

**=0= **

Dipper was simultaneously fascinated and terrified by this new world. Questions raced through his head, but he had little time for hypothesis. Not long after the world had transformed around them, he had been attacked by more nurses and had to avoid a giant version of the streetlight. He had also been forced to apply logic to this strange game, based around nine different pieces. He didn't know how long he had spent on that stupid puzzle, but he knew that it was far too long.

Occasionally, he would hear the radio man throw out an instruction. But they were never addressed to him. Instead they were commands for his minions, telling them to "Turn it up a notch, our guests are expecting." Or "Be more hospitable. Human's only live once afterall…" Some of the messages though, were somehow more disturbing, because, they made no logical sense. They were garbled madness, like someone was rewinding the man's messages, or he was just reading of a list of gobbledygook, which lacked synchrony, or any sense of meaning and continuity.

At the moment, Dipper was shimmying down a rusty chain, the corridor above having ended in a well, a chain dangling from the ceiling, extending down into the darkness like an insidiously long snake that disappeared into the underbrush. Knowing that more nurses were coming, he gripped onto the deteriorating metal with grimy hands, and entrusted it with his life as his dwindling form was enveloped by darkness, and he had to move by touch alone.

Halfway down, he hit an oily spot on the chain, and his feet dangled in the air for a moment. Tensing, he swung his legs back around the chain, and continued down. But he found it even harder to keep from falling when his hands had to cross the oil. Forcing his knees so close together that it was painful, he tightened his grip and lowered the speed of his descent until he was below the oil. Just as he had resumed his regular pace however, he hit another oily spot, this one considerably larger. Again he slowed down, but this time, he accidentally slipped, and lost his grip on the chain.

Hurtling downwards, he clamped his hands back on the chain, and hissed in pain as the skin of his palms was torn at by the unmerciful friction. His shin collided with the chain, causing more pain, and as the chain swung back and forth in the air, slamming the nimble soul into the concrete walls of the tunnel. One hard slam to the back of his head, and Dipper lost his grip on the chain, and losing consciousness as he disappeared into the fathoms below.

**=0=**

_Two hours and forty minutes previous. _

Stan pulled the warlock behind him when he found himself moving faster than the younger man. "C'mon, do you want to be monster chow?" Archibald shook his head, and picked up the pace. Calling out as the rounded the corner. "There should be an elevator at the end of the right hall..." Stan nodded and tried to keep from slipping as they threw a puddle of what he assumed was blood. Turning the corner, he spotted the elevator that his companion had predicted, and stumbled towards it.

As he did though, the doors of the elevator began to open, and he slowed to nearly a stop. "Keep moving, their almost at our throats." Archie tried to pull him forwards, but then he spotted what occupied the elevator.

There was a man, dressed in a pitch black suit, with a white rose sticking out of his lapel, and gloved hands which radiated with power. But the by far most prominent detail about the man, was the ancient gas mask which rested on his face. The warlock glanced behind them, and then turned back to the petrified Stan. "Mr. Pines, we have to keep moving!" The man inside the elevator spoke, in a low hissing voice that reflected a hidden smirk. _"There's room for one more…" _The words seemed to bring Stanford to his senses, and the shyster grabbed his companion's wrist, and pulled him down the nearest corridor. "Where's the nearest staircase?" "Wha-what?" Stan nearly slapped him, and pushed a medical bed in the way of their pursuers. "THE STAIRCASE! Where the hell is it?!" Archibald licked his lips, and recovered his senses, "Down the two halls to the right!" Stan continued to pull him along, his mind completely focused on one goal.

Survive long enough to reach the ambulance. Then, with Lust's help, he could locate the twins, and they could all get the fuck away from the twisted place, and never turn back. "Why didn't we fight that thing back there? He didn't even look as dangerous as the others!" Stan ignored him, and tried to justify his irrational fear of the well-dressed creep as they raced towards the flight of stairs. _When you have a gut feeling, you follow it. _That's what his father had told him, and the moment he caught a glimpse of the elevator rider, his gut had been screaming for him to run like wildfire and never look back.

Stanford had experienced fear and disgust for the monster this place (and his hometown) had to offer. But the fear he felt for that _thing_, was a thousand times scarier. Everything about it had seemed wrong, from its appearance to its haunting voice. It was like something inside him, something formed from millions of years of evolution, had just told him to run, to back down. And he had done as commanded.

The elder whipped open the door to the staircase, and pushed his fellow survivor in, before slamming the door shut behind him. A stone struck the back of his neck as he descended the staircase. He screamed, and clutched the injured flesh as he looked behind at the stairs above. Hundreds of little, faceless, gremlin-esque creatures stood on the floors above, hurling down sharp stones with cruel precision. "What the he-" His comrade gestured for him to follow, now twenty or so steps below. "We're almost there!" He ducked to the side to avoid a rain of pebbles, and continued, two steps at a time. Stan sprinted forward, leaping four steps down and then turning the corner.

More rocks pelted his backside, but he ignored the pain, treating them like merely bee stings. The giggling of the faceless dwarves spiraled down along with the stones, and Stan cursed whatever forces were responsible for their creation, as he pointed the hand gun Archibald had given him up at them, and fired in succession. The body's toppled forward, falling like huge fleshy hail that bounced off the railing, and crashed to the ground below in a heap. But no matter how many he killed there always seemed to be more.

"Stanford? Come on, I've got the door opened!" Turning away from the creatures, he stumbled down the last few steps, and bolted towards the entrance to the parking garage. Archibald continued to gesture him forward, until he had passed the nervous survivor. Then he joined his companion on the other side, slamming the door shut, and speaking a few words in a dead language as he ran his hand over the knob of the door. Stan frowned and tried to tug him away, "What are you doing? The ambulance is right over there!" He pointed, and glanced back at their means of escape to be sure it was still there.

Archie didn't look up, he merely replied in his own slow, yet hurried way. "I am casting an incantation that should stop Them from breaking down the door." He removed a knife, and slashed it across his left palm, before pressing the bloody hand against the knob and continuing to mutter a stream of in decipherable sentences. _"Signa ab inimicis meis locum, amodo et deinceps…" _Stan was about to tell him that it wouldn't matter since they would be out of here if they just got in the ambulance, when twisted barb wire covered the door like mildew, and the warlock turned back to him with slightly glowing eyes. "_Factum est. _Come on, we need to get going." The elder would have been exasperated had he not been in such a hurry, and the two of them ran over to the ambulance in extreme haste. Stan threw open the driver side door, and leapt in, while Archie ran around the side, and slid into his seat, taking the extra time to buckle his seat belt. Stan placed his hand next to his companion, and a look of confusion over came the passenger.

"The key! I need THE KEY!" Realization hit like a freight train, and he scrambled through his pockets to find the vital item. "Oh for the love of God! One thing...the most important thing, and you mispla-" "GOT IT!" He tossed the key to the driver, and the senior stabbed the key into the ignition. The ambulance pulled away, and Stan drove it towards the exit, a feeling of relief pass over him. Then he saw the sparks. Orange and aqua in coloration, they appeared from nowhere, and crackled as they struck the ground. A circle of energy blue exploded into existence, spraying fire everywhere. It stood between them and the exit, and Stan was forced to slam on the breaks. The ambulance skidded to halt, and crashed into a concrete support beam.

The windows shattered, and Stan slammed into the dashboard, moaning in pain. Fire erupted onto the edges of the ambulance, and Lust began shaking his shoulder violently, screaming in his ear to wake up. Stan's eyes fluttered open, and Archibald kicked open the driver side door (with his crushed against the support beam) before pushing the dazed elder out. Landing on his feet, Stan looked up to see a man emerging from within the swirling ball of energy. His skin was blue, his eyes were far too long and thin, extending up the front of his face, and remaining black as midnight. His hands were chained to this immense metal hoop, which seemed to be responsible for the energy that surrounded him. He lacked a mouth, or a nose, but had lumps beneath his cobalt skin, which hinted of the existence of such features. "What the hell is that thing?" He heard his ally gulp, and the warlock stepped forward, gazing upon the monstrosity in awe. "It..it..it's my brother." Stan turned back and stared at him incredulously, and he moved his gaze down to meet his fellow human's. "What do you mean 'it's my brother'? That thing is NOT human!" Archibald stepped back, partially because of elder's anger, but mostly because of his 'brother'. "He uh…he…he went through this special ritual that was supposed to…make him more powerful. I didn't want him to go through with it but well, he convince me otherwise..." The creature roared, and moved closer to the town's victims.

"Th-the demons, the ones in charge, they took him. He..he's the reason I had to get you…I could n-never face him.." Stan glanced back at the monster which was almost upon him at this point. "Do you mean to tell me…that the only reason I'm here was to kill that thing for you?! I have two children depending on me, and you just made me waste a whole day! Was there even enough gas in the ambulance TO GET US OUT OF THIS TOWN?!" The timid mage was never given a chance to respond. A sapphire blast of energy slammed into him, and he went flying into a concrete beam not too far away. He fell to the ground in a heap, a stripe of blood extending downwards from where his body had collided with the beam. A moan of pain escaped his lips as he slumped forward, blood pooling on his scalp. Stan turned to the creature, and grabbed his shot gun, just as another blast of energy whipped out, and stuck him, sending the senior crashing into the side of the ambulance wreckage.

**-=0=- **

Dipper groaned and sat up, rubbing his bruised noggin. He was surrounded by darkness for the most part, the only light to be seen was the distant glow of two large torches, which stood on either side of a gate. Glancing up from where he had come, the pre-teen recognized the chain responsible for his fall, as it swung back and forth, about twenty feet above, like a pendulum. Moaning, Dipper bent his knees, and rubbed his back as he stood, and began hobbling in the direction of the fire.

The ground was wet and thick with infertile soil, the cracks betwixt the jagged slabs filled with sloppily black grunge. As he walked, a cold gust stuck him from behind, and his cap went bobbing against the ground, rolling right up to the ancient sandstone pillars. Desperate to get his cherished headgear back, the tween ran forward despite his skinned knees, and splitting headache, and snatched up his trademark cap upon reaching the gateway. Placing it firmly upon his head, he glanced up and almost jumped back when he saw the blood red message which lay on the stone arch supported by the pillars to either side of his frail form.

**WIR SIND NICHT.**

Staring at it indecisively, Dipper ran through all the codes he had found useful in the journal, but found that none fit the bill. Then a moan escaped the tunnel in front of him, and his gaze was immediately lowered, and the young detective stared into the dark void behind the pillars as he took a few steps backwards. More groans, and Dipper retracted his knife, trying to prepare himself for a fight.

A creature darted out of the impenetrable darkness, and slammed into his fragile form, knocking the tween to the ground, and pinning him beneath its small yet powerful arms. Approximately the size of a toddler, the creature's oval head was larger than the rest of its body, and the monster's dull, hairless skin and egg-like head reminded Dipper of a grey alien. Its eyes were replaced with glass crystals, and a rusty bear trap had fused into its one orifice, creating a terrifying set of jaws which snapped open and closed, mere inches from his face.

It hissed and pounded on him with its gangly arms. The knife had been knocked out of Dipper's grasp when the creature had collided with him, and was now mere inches from the trapped pre-teen. With one hand on the creature's immense forehead, and one stretched in the direction of the lost weapon, Dipper knew that nay second now, his right arm would give way, and the creature would take an unruly chunk out of his face. He kicked it in the stomach, and rolled the body to the side, leaping to his feet, and sprinting over to the knife as the creature rolled over, and leapt towards him. Turning to face it, the [re-teen slashed the air with his utensil, and watched as he took out one of the monster's glass eyes. Blood spurted everywhere, and the creature rolled across the ground, before standing on it's arms and launching itself back at him.

SLICK!

Blood covered his arm, and Dipper looked down to see an eviscerated creature lying in front of him. It had few organs, but the one's that it did overflowed with a putrefying green puss. He nearly hurled, but clutched his stomach painfully, and pulled his bruised body away from the corpse, and into the darkness from whence it came.

**-=0=-**

**_Hope you enjoy. Do me a favor, and tell me what your favorite monster so far is. I think the Egg-head is the one I'm most proud of. But the Wasp-lung is pretty cool too. Keep in mind, there are going to be more monsters. _**


	6. Chapter 6

**-=0=-**

The sound of a bell ringing filled her ears, and Mable opened her eyes, surprised to find herself sitting in the classroom. She gasped and sucked in dry air, finding that it caused the burning sensation in her lungs to dissipate. Happy to be alive, but confused as to why and how she was back here, the twelve year old slid out of her seat, and glanced around. The rotting apple was still there, and the drawers of the desk had been pulled out, but the door, the door that had been knocked down, was standing in its correct spot, with chains holding it to the walls.

The bell continued to ring, giving her a headache and making it twice as hard to concentrate. Putting hands on either side of her head, she tried to find a way to turn it off. Finding none, she grabbed a chuck of broken ceiling and chucked it at the bell, causing a banging sound, and for the front of the bell to fall off and ping against the floor. The tiny mechanism continued to slam up and down violently, the pain growing in her ears growing.

_Shut up you stupid thing! _Grabbing a chair, she dragged it over to the wall, and climbed onto it, only to find the bell just out of arm's reach. Refusing to spend another moment under the reign of the maddening noise, she removed her gun from her pocket and shot the mechanism, covering her head as little bits came raining down, and tangled in her unruly hair. She took a moment to enjoy the silence, and to let the ringing sound die away inside her own mind. Then she brushed the metal out, and hopped off the desk and began to search for an exit to the room.

At first she thought she might be able to break the glass window in the door, and climb out. But, after checking, she found that there were bars on the other side of the glass. Groaning, she sat down and leaned against the door, leaning her cheeks on her fists as she scanned the room for other exits. The room lacked windows. _Of course it did. _The pages, colored with grey and black only (with the exception of a big red four on one of the pages) would be no help. The radio began playing _"Cool change" _as her gaze moved to the ceiling, and she noticed the vent that was on the right side of the room.

It was just big enough, and with a little luck she might be able to crawl around. Smiling at her revelation, Mabel grabbed the chair, and began inching it in the direction of the vent. Once the bubbly girl got there however, she found that, once again, the chair didn't boost her up high enough. _What I need is a ladder…_ She turned away, and was struck with inspiration. _Or a desk. _

Running over to the abandoned teacher's desk, the young brunette began to push the desk in the direction of the vent. It moved like a snail, and she wished that she didn't have to do this on her own. _I would be fine moving the desk as long as I wasn't all alone in this creepy place. _The pre-teen grunted at the physical exertion, and gave the desk one last, powerful shove, watching as it collided with the wall, creating a small thud. She grabbed the forgotten chair, and lifted it up, before placing it gently on the desk.

Judging the space between the top of the desk and her means of escape, Mabel smiled at her accomplishment, and leaped up, scrambling against the birch and shooting one corner of the vent, causing a screw to fall out, and the poorly made device to swing open on one side. Testing the waters, Mabel stuck a sweatered arm into the darkness, feeling around, and retracting her arm to find that the vent was not nearly as dusty as she had assumed. Grabbing the edges of the tunnel, she pulled herself inside, and wiggled around until she had moved her legs in. Then she proceeded to crawl forward, disappearing into the labyrinth of darkness and rust.

**-=0=-**

_An hour and forty minutes previous. _ Stan struggled to his feet, felling blood running down his back, pain shot through his spine as he stood, and the senior almost fell down again. The creature moved closer to the man and the wreckage behind him, unleashing another bolt of pure energy, this time however, Stan was quick enough to move out of the way, and yank an ampoule out of his pocket, drinking the entire bottle in seconds, and removing his hand gun. The old man glowed with the energy of his drink as fired the revolver three, watching as the monster barely flinched, as if his attack was nothing more than that of an ant's. The creature tossed another bolt of energy, and the elderly warrior ducked to the side, firing twice more at the head. He smiled when he saw that he had struck the creature's eyes, and it was temporarily stunned, unable to do anything but clutch its bizarre face, and float. Swinging the wrench, he struck its stomach, and arms, multiple times, bruising the cobalt flesh.

The monster whipped out a hand, and sent its opponent sprawling backwards, and sliding across the concrete with a cry. Stan saw the missile of energy hurtling toward him, and rolled out of the way, moaning in pain at the pressure placed upon his bleeding arm. He re-loaded his gun, and released five rounds into the Lust brother. With all shots aimed at the head, he stunned the creature once again, and was given time to climb back to his feet, and check his pocket only to find that he was out of ammo.

The creature roared like a lion, and charged towards him, energy crackling across its formidable form as it neared its latest victim. Stan pulled out his shotgun, fumbled with a shell, and then pointed the loaded gun at the creature just as it was upon him. BANG! The shrapnel tore into the mouth less screamer, and Stan whacked it across the side of the head with his wrench.

Black blood began to ooze from the gash he had created on its bald forehead. The creature grabbed him by the neck, and lifted him into the air, tightening its grip, and causing the old man to gag and kick. Stan kicked the side of its head, but this succeeded in doing little aside from breaking a few of his toes. His world going dark due to a lack of oxygen, Stan raised his shotgun, and slammed it over his head just as the corrupted human was about to fry him with a pulse of gamma radiation.

The senior kicked the edge of the ring which the monster was bound to, and received an electric shock, before being dropped. The abomination raised its arms, and prepared to strike, causing its crippled victim to tense in preparation for his doom. _"ABSIT HOC A TERGO PLANUM EST!"_ Stan opened his eyes upon recognizing the Latin speaker, and saw blast of energy slammed into his blue skinned foe, causing it wriggle back and forth as it began to glow orange, before exploding in a shower of blood red sparks. Startled by the action, Stan turned and saw a half conscious Archibald with a charred hand raised, and a blood soaked shirt. The elder ran over to the warlock, and realized what his companion had done with a sickening feeling in his stomach.

The power of his spell was measured by how much blood he had given, so in order to defeat his brother, Archibald had slit his wrists. "Oh my…Oh man…Alright, get up, we're in a hospital, I'm sure that we can patch you up…" The man shook his head, his eyes were half lidded, and he spoke in a slur. "No…this…this is it…" Stan's eyes widened at the implication, then he pulled out an ampoule and open it, "Here drink this…it'll repair you-" The younger man pushed the drink away with his non-charred hand, and he leaned his head back against the pillar. "No you're going to need it, if your gonna save your friends…this…this is the way it has to be for me, this town was never going to let me go anyway…and you'd never be able to fight both your and my demons, no I…I'm partially responsible for what happened to my brother, and now…now you have to finish what I started."

The stunned old man frowned, "What do you mean-" "You have to kill him. What I did, it only banished him for a short time, he'll be back, and you have to save whoever it is that is relying on you before he returns. They'll be at the Blackwell manor, that's where the demons are strongest." He coughed up blood, and gave the senior a delusionary smile. "Don't worry…I can't go to Hell...because I'm already-" He was launched into a coughing fit, and when it was over he only managed ot stare at nothing, unable to finish his sentence, his eyes now grey and vacant. Stan took a step backwards, and stared at the blood soaked corpse. _"That'll be you soon…" _the old man turned around at the sound of the voice and felt anger course through his veins when he saw the gas mask wearing freak form earlier, staring back at him.

_"Shame we can't "ressurect his qui pereunt est opertum" eh Stanford?" _The senior growled, and swung his wrench in the man's direction, "Get out of here you freak, what do you have no respect for the dead?!" The man moved to the side to avoid the blow, and Stan swore he could hear the smirk in his voice. _"Au contrair my good friend. That's exactly why I where this suit." _The man removed an hour glass from his pocket, and inspected it before chortling _"You better get going, the children don't have a lot of time…" _Then the man began to fade into the shadows, causing Stan's hatred of him to grow considerably, "You're a liar!" The well-dressed mocker just waved as he turned into nothingness, and Stan repeated the insult in an attempt to reassure himself. "You're a liar…"

**-=0=-**

Mabel had found, so far, that all the other vents were tightly sealed from the outside. Covered in dust, and desperate for some less stale air, the pre-teen followed the only directions she was given. A blood streak across the floor of the vent, which disappeared around each winding tunnel, leading to yet another rusty, smelly tunnel. She knew that whatever had left the blood streak could not be good, and she knew that she would most likely end up regretting the decision. But with no map of the ventilation, and burning hunger, she continued forward. She was however, about to give up, when she came across the hole. Glancing down it, the brunette realized she was looking at the gym, and smiled as she took a breath of fresh air.

The ground was about twelve feet below however, which put a damper on her mood. Then she remembered the rotting pillow that had lay propped up a few tunnels back. Quickly turning around, Mabel began to hurry back from whence she came. Only to hear a creepy skittering sound from behind.

It took Mabel a moment to turn around, and by the time she had did so, the creature was gone. Gulping, she continued on her way, praying that this enclosed space did not contain spiders. She tire to ignore the big red 6 which was painted on the side of the vent up ahead. Mabel's knees were already considerably banged up from all the crawling she had been doing, and she scraped the skin, drawing blood as she approached the abandoned pillow. Wincing, she stopped and sat down, tearing off a strip of sweater, and wrapping it around her damaged knee as quickly as possible, before continuing onwards.

Pulling the pillow aside, she screamed when she saw the creature lurking behind it. A huge bug, balanced on three spindly legs, hissed back at her, and escaped her swatting to disappear into the darkness of the tunnel. Turning around, the tween moved as quickly as was possible while lugging the pillow behind her. Arriving at the hole without encountering the beast again, she shoved the pillow through, and began to lower herself down. Then four of the grotesque creatures leaped out of the darkness, tangling themselves in her hair, and causing the girl to scream and fall forward. Her hand landed on the pillow, but her injured knee banged against the dilapidated baseball court.

Groaning, she felt tears come to her eyes as she tried to swat away the creatures. They danced across her body, before running off in search of the room's darkest corners. Raising herself to her feet, Mabel glanced around, and saw that a wasp-lung was running towards her from the left, and a thorny-hugger was galloping towards her from the right. Scrambling towards the seats, Mabel desperately searched for an exit. _What if they stuff me in a locker again? Or what if they force me back into the vents and those THINGS get me. _Grappling with her panicking mind, the resourceful pre-teen spied the closet, and realized that it probably contained a number of useful weapons.

The faceless thorn covered corpse slammed into the side of the bleacher's, and tried to climb in with vigor. Leaping over him, Mabel scampered past the growing swarm of wasps, and ran into the storage closet, slamming the door closed behind her. The female monster ran forward, and slammed its fists against the door, the insects that lived within her buzzing about as she screamed and thrashed. Her armless companion joined her, and began slamming his stubs against the wood, sucking the air violently. The door flung open, stunning the creatures, and revealing a rather well-equipped Mabel Pines. The twelve year-old held a baseball bat in one hand, and a cricket bat in the other. She was dressed in a football helmet, and shoulder pads, with an umpire's vest concealing the majority of her small form. Her opponent's recovered and pounced on her.

She slammed the cricket bat into the thorn covered monster's head, and bull rushed the wasp lung, slamming her in the chest, and whacking her upside the head with the bat. The female monster collapsed, wriggling around on the ground. Mabel smiled and cheered for herself, "No more hiding for Mabel Pines!" She hit the recovering male with the cricket bat, wincing at the sound of bones breaking and flesh squishing beneath the force.

The swarm attacked her, but most of their stings were rendered useless by her new armor. Despite this, she was too distracted by their attacks, to see the charging wasp lung. Knocked to the floor, the creature wrapped its clammy claws over her throat, and tried to spit yellow jackets into her mouth. Closing her mouth, she had to resist the urge to scream as the infernal insects stabbed their stingers into her lips and cheeks. Swinging the bat upwards, she slammed it into the monster's neck multiple times, until the spine broke their, and the creature collapsed atop her. Squirming out from under the corpse, the girl was immediately attacked by the forgotten monster.

She slammed the bat into the briar skinned beast's head, only to watch the wood break across the abomination's skull. The creature let go of her for a moment, clutching its bleeding head in pain. Removing her gun, Mabel fired a two blasts into the faceless being's chest, watching it fall to the floor. Grabbing the remains of the bat, she stabbed the sharp end into the injured creatures back, pushing the giant splinter far in enough that her foe stopped wriggling around on the floor. Stepping away from the kill, she panted and looked down at her hands.

They were covered in blood. The twelve year old began trying to rub the blood off on her sweater, tears coming to her eyes as the pain and exhaustion caught up with her, and conflicted with her guilt. _I just impaled something. _She stared at the creature with blurry eyes, biting her lip as she recalled how pitiful it had look twitching on the ground. She began to cry, the sounds of her sobs echoing through the abandoned gym. So used to the silence and the sound of her own voice, she nearly screamed when a song jolted onto the radio. _"Pressure" _played as she picked herself up, grabbed the cricket bat, and threw her dirty, blood stained sweater into a garbage can as she ran towards the exit.

**-=0=-**

Dipper heaved and pushed with all his strength to close the massive stone door with a booming slam. Grunting in exhaustion, he slid down to the ground, leaning his back against stone and panting heavily. The sound of his pursuers slamming their weapons and fists against the door doing nothing to improve his mood. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, and he was thirsty enough to start lapping up the dirty puddles which were scattered across this strange world. Covered in bruises, and various abrasions, the mystery seeker looked like he had just crawled through twelve lines of barbwire. He was about ready to fall asleep right there, when he caught sight of the exit, or at least what looked like an exit. There was a huge stone archway, and a big black, spherical, portal standing in the middle of it, supported by rusty steel beams.

With nowhere else to go, and his condition becoming worse by the second, he ran towards the mysterious sphere, staring into its depths almost maddeningly. Then he heard a huge rumbling sound, and looked around just in time to spy a huge hand break through the wall, and reveal yet another monster, this one much larger than anything else he had thus far encountered. The creature had an obscene level of muscles, all of them rippling with pure strength. Its head, tiny compared to the rest of its body, was concealed by a bison skull. The right hand had three fingers, which closed around a stone pillar and ripped it out of place. The left hand however ended in a bulbous mass of flesh. The creature was supported by three cloven feet, each the size of a minivan. A radio somewhere above buzzed on, and the ruler of this dark place began announcing the fight as though they were two wrestlers.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a historic event, as Dipper Pines (weighing in at 76 pounds), attempts to take on the twenty five ton Aurochs. I'm takin' all bets on the big guy!"_

Dipper stared up at his incredibly intimidating enemy, failing to grasp how he could fight such a gargantuan foe. "Auroches" however, had no hesitations what so ever. Leaping forward, it kicked at him with its third leg, creating a house sized cloud of dust. Dipper leapt out of the way, and rushed towards the portal. _"Ah, ah! That's not how we play." _A metal gate rose from the earth, barring the pre-teen's means of passage. His adversary took advantage of his how trapped he had become, and charged forward.

The creature slammed into the wall, and fell to the floor in heap, temporarily stunned. Dipper, who had narrowly avoid doom thanks to his agility, realized that he had to fight this monster, and ran up its third leg, tearing at it's tough hide with his knife. Reaching its shoulders, he stabbed the knife into its tender neck, forcing the blade deeper as the monster began to thrash. As it began to stand, Dipper staggered backwards and toppled off, slamming to the ground below. The twelve year old staggered to his feet, and cried out as he realized that he had landed on his bad ankle wrong, and the pain was twice as bad. The boy limped out of the way, barely making it as the creature slammed its stump down, raising more dust. Coughing, the injured detective stumbled through the dust, unable to locate the monster or the exit. The creature slammed down its stump again, the force sending Dipper flying backwards, and rolling across the ground, only to stop in front of the stone door.

_"OH! And that one is gonna hurt in the morning!" _ Dipper coughed, rubbing the blood from his upper lip, and struggling to stand. _"And it looks like this fight is over…I guess that's what happens when you pit a weakling against a gigantic brute."_ The bruised tween, bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, using the new source of pain to ignore the searing in his ankle, and stood, glaring at the beast charging towards him. Running to the side, he watched the monster slam into the stone door, keeling over, and clutching its disturbingly small head. Dipper stabbed the knife into its right leg, pulling it out and stabbing into a different spot. The creature stood, and raised a hoof high in the air, slamming it down where Dipper had been moments before. With a plan formulating in his mind, the pre-teen ran in front of the gate and yelled "COME AND GET ME YOU BIG DUMMY!"

The monster fumed, smoke and fire exploding forth form its nostrils, as it tore across the arena, in his direction. Waiting for the very last moment, Dipper pulled away, stumbling back and falling on his ass, as the beast slammed into the metal, shattering the gate into a million pieces, and causing many of the sharp bars to stab themselves deep into his form. The monster screamed in pain, and fell onto its side, bleeding profusely. _"What a turn around, ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you, that is one of the most incredible move I have seen, and I have been announcing fights for thousands of years!" _Dipper ignored the voice as he dragged his leg in the direction of the portal. _"AND the winner is, DIPPER PINES! Give him a big round of applause everyone!" _The sound of disembodied claps, cheers and whistles, erupted as the irate tween approached the exit. _"I think he deserves a reward…don't you?" _More claps. Dipper pressed his hand against the portal, but jumped back in pain when he received a powerful static shock. _"Ah, ah, ah, you can't leave until you're rewarded." _The young survivor stared up at the radio which sat on the wall, clutching his throbbing hand as tears of hatred boiled over his eyes.

_"Now, do a little dance and we'll drop you some food and drink. And then the key to the portal." _

The mention of food made him clutch his aching stomach, and the mention of drink made him lick his dry lips, tasting iron. _"C'mon! I know you can do it…" _Choking down his pride, the boy did as instructed, dancing awkwardly on his damaged foot, before sitting down on the stone steps of the portal, and glaring back at the radio. _"Good boy," If I ever get my hands on him I'll- "Now, here you go." _Black smoke started to hiss into being, and Dipper coughed and covered his broken nose, the iron stench of blood almost preventing him from smelling sulfur.

When the black smoke cleared there was a pile of canned goods, a canteen, and a key. The boy stuffed the cans into his pockets, slung the canteen over his shoulder, and picked up the key, promising his stomach that he would relive its aching need once he got out of here. Unable to see any key hole, he stabbed the key into the darkness, and watched as the blackness glowed white, and flashed violently. \ When he opened his eyes he was standing in front of the wreckage of the burnt down hospital, the weight of the canteen apparent on his shoulder.

Glancing around, he spotted a fire escape, and crossed the street, the pain in his ankle causing him to realize that ascending the stairs would be an insurmountable task. Sighing, he looked around, and spied a shop with a display case. Limping forward, he grabbed a brick and tossed it through towards the shop, watching the glass shatter, before entering the shop via the open display case. Stepping past the creepy dolls and the naked mannequin, the pre-teen was careful not to scrape himself on any of the glass. Then he stumbled over to the counter, and slid to the ground, before beginning to open the cans with his knife.

_**-=0=-**_

_**Whadja think? Sorry for the wait. **_


	7. Chapter 7

**-=0=-**

Upon reaching the gym doors, Mabel had found a note in which someone named "Horace" explained to another person, that they had placed the keys to bus 23# in the cold room of the cafeteria, and to take them when they were ready to leave. Since the note had never been removed from the door, Mabel guessed that the person it was intended for had not found it, and despite how much she wished it wasn't so, they were probably dead. The young girl had practically slapped herself when she realized that she had even considered the possibility of the buses being needing keys. _Of course the buses would be locked! Duh! _She had sighed at the thought that, had Dipper been with her, he would have thought of this from the beginning. Now forced to sidetrack, she crept through the darkened halls, in search of the cafeteria. Hiding in the shadows so as to not be seen. By the time she finally made it, her stomach was painfully growling, and she felt like her lips were on the edge of cracking due to dryness.

Thus, she came to the conclusion that she would grab some food and water from the cafeteria (if there was any), on her way out. But when she reached the cafeteria, checked twice to make sure it was uninhabited, and ran over the kitchen, she found that the cooler room was locked. Currently the tween was glowering at the combination padlock, almost as though it would pop off if she glared long and hard enough. Sighing she looked around in case anyone had left any notes which contained the pass word.

Noting on the counter, nothing out in the eating area, nothing next the buffet full of rotting food and swarming flies. Then she checked, beneath the counter. A big red 6 was written on the underside of the counter, a dozen pieces of long forgotten gum surrounding it. The memory of the big red 3 in the vent returned to her, as well as the 4 in the class room, and a 9 she had seen in the hall. 3-4-6-9. She turned back to the lock and set the combination to those numbers. No response. Groaning she leaned back against the counter. Math was not her strong point, but she quickly figured out that it would take forever to try all combinations of the same four numbers.

_Okay Mabel, time to get into a detective mode here, there has to be a way to figure this thing out…_ She removed the note from her pocket and re-read it. Horace, the man who had stolen the key, had been the groundskeeper. He probably had a shed somewhere around here, and in the shed… _Was the paint!_ Smiling Mabel grabbed a can, and celebrated by opening it carefully with a rusty can opener, and downing its contents.

Once she had eaten, she set off in search of the shed. It took a while for her to find the door leading to the grounds, but once she had exited the building, she took a deep breath of (relatively) fresh air. Glancing around, she noticed the shed on the other side of recess area, barely able to make it out due to the decaying playground that stood between her and it. Running forward, Mabel noticed that the playground was flanked by two large pools of sane which extended all the way to up to the walls of the school. Biting her lip, the young brunette dashed across the pool to the left, wanting to avoid being close to the creepy playground at all costs. But just as she reached the center of the pool, the ground began to give way, sucking her downwards.

She screamed, and kicked at sand, trying to pull her feet out. The literal quicksand did not give way, rather, it seemed to pull harder. Now down to her ankles in the stuff, Mabel glanced around, looking for something that she could use to escape. The metal pole which made up the right side of the swing was the closest thing to grab hold of, and about twenty feet away. _I'd need rope in order to pull myself out. _Her eyes widened, and she pulled a device out of her backpack.

"GRAPPLINGHOOK!" firing the mini harpoon, and watching as the metal hook entangled itself with the rusty pole. Press the button to rewind the rope, the grappling refused to budge, and began pulling the knee deep tween out of the sand, and flung her onto the mulch of the playground. Exhaling deeply, Mabel glanced down at her bare feet, her boots apparently lost amidst the malignant sands.

Strapping the hook to her shorts, she removed new boots, and a new sweater from her backpack, and put them on. Then she turned towards the decaying play set, and ran towards the shed on the other side. Her movement caused the non-broken swing to begin its regular movement, creating an awful squeaking noise as it proceeded to move up and down. The seesaw as well moved on its own, teetering up and downwards at a slightly infuriating pace.

The playground reminded Mabel of the one in her great uncle's mind, and had such an eerie feel to it, that she felt a chill go up her spine despite wearing a sweater. But just as she was about to leave the perimeters of the haunting structure, a wasp lung leaped out from behind a slide, and hissed, blocking her way, and depositing a few wasps into the air. Turning on her heels, Mabel ran to the left and then towards escape. Another mask wearing monster jumped out of the unkempt grass, hissing and crawling towards her on all fours. _You have got to be kidding me! _

Turning around, the twelve year old adventurer ducked out of the first monster's grasp, and led the two of them up the rusty stairs. A swarm of wasps circled the playground, and she leapt down the slide as the abominations tried to get their hands on her. She stopped near the bottom to avoid hitting the massive puddle at the base of the slide, and hopped over the water as the wasps descended like dive bombers. Running out of the playground, Mabel tried to lose the monsters in the tall grass, which was so unruly that she came to the conclusion that no one had cut it in years.

There was a menagerie of rusty toys, and broken scrap which littered the muddy ground, and Mabel stopped to pick up a packet of bullets. As soon as she reached the shed, she climbed in, and slammed the door close behind, standing on her tip toes to reach the bar and slide it into the hasp. Smiling in relief, she pulled out her flashlight and flicked it on, deathly aware that she would soon run out of batteries.

The shed smelled of something musty, which Mabel was unaccustomed to. The girl spat out some of the cobweb that got in her mouth as she searched the shed. Pointing light at every dusty corner, she stopped and gulped when the light crossed over a message. **WE DO THINGS ALPHABETICALLY, AS ALWAYS. **It was written in the same blood red paint, the can and brush used beside it. There was one other thing next to it, which Mabel didn't recognize in the darkness, until she shone the light on it. It was a corpse, its face smashed in, creating a pulp.

The body was dressed in jeans, overalls, and a checkered shirt. Flies circled the body, stabbing their sharp jaws into parts of it mercilessly. Pulling away, the pre-teen tried to erase the image from her mind, unsuccessfully. Choosing to focus on something else, Mabel tried to figure out what the message had meant. Not being particularly good at these things, she spent about five minutes puzzling the meaning out. When she figured out that the numbers should be set in alphabetical order, she leaped to her feet, and ran over to the door. Peeking out a hole in the door, she unlocked the door and rushed outside. The masked creatures darted out from either side of the shed, and stumbled after her.

Pulling out her backpack, she stuffed the flashlight into it, and removed the cricket bat. Despite being armed, she continued to run, and zig-zagged back and forth in an attempt to lose the slow witted creatures. The buzzing of the wasps was near deafening due to the sheer mass of them. Mabel darted between the playground equipment, and leapt towards the door. The wasps descended in a brutal wave of pain, and Mabel toppled over as they dung their stingers into her skin, groaning, she pushed herself up, and swatted at the insects with the bat, before grabbing the knob and twisting the door open. A faceless beast charged towards her, and she jumped to the side, watching the thorn covered monster slam into the cloud of wasps. Running inside, she pulled the door closed, before screeching down the hall.

**-=0=-**

Stan stared up at the gargoyles resentfully, glowing red eyes meeting his gaze. Turning back to the open gates, Stan watched as lightning flashed through the sky, highlighting Blackwell manor. _Geez, if this place could look or sound any creepier, it would be a mortuary. _

Rolling his eyes, he ran towards the mansion, his revolver at the ready in his right hand. Arriving at the front doors, he grabbed hold of the dragon shaped handle, and tugged with all his strength, barely able to make the doors budge. Pushing against the side of the gargantuan oak door, he gazed into the murky darkness which filled the building, removing his flashlight from his pocket, and stabbing the shadows with the light. Gulping, the elderly warrior stepped inside, identifying several statues which lay scattered around the front hall in disarray, before running the direction of the staircase.

**-=0=-**

Dipper awoke with a start, pieces of canned peach lying all over the front of his shirt. Rubbing juice form his lips, he rubbed his eyes, and glanced around, trying to be sure that no monsters had snuck in while he was sleeping. Once he was certain that he was alone, he climbed out broken store window, becoming slightly paranoid when he saw that the dolls and mannequins were gone. The street to, it seemed was abandoned, and Dipper began to wonder where his pursuers had gone. Running in opposite direction from which he came, he heard that same, vomit inducing voice emitting from the fog ahead. The only solace he could take in the voice was the radio static which occasionally interrupted. _"No one esc-SCHTT-millions starved to death-SHCTTT-But enough news! Onto our morning broadcast with-SCCHTT-Hey folks **IT'S ME**, and I'm here to talk about all your favorite topics!" _

Dipper rolled his eyes at the antics of the unseen villain, continuing his trot. _"All residents of Silent Hill are invited to the party of the cen-SCCT-_**you'll never make it to 2099**-_SCHCT-it's gonna be fantastic. How do I know? Because it'll be hosted by the Pines family! Our only *human* residen-SCCCHHT!" _ Dipper bolted forward at the sound of his last name, and skidded to a halt in front of the machine which the messages were transmitted from. It was a beaten up sedan, which lacked tires, a wheel, or an engine. The radio still worked though. _Of course it does. "Just go descend Matheson street, and just left of-SCTT-_**hell**_-you'll find the gates. Don't worry folks it'll be a bawl-SCCHHT-_**Dead lung was proven wrong by key to an underground railroad**_-SCCCT-so be sure to come!" _

A strong breeze hit, and Dipper rubbed his exposed arms as bits of nearby rubbish were sent skittering across the ground like fleeing cockroaches. The fog seemed to part slightly, and Dipper saw that someone or something, had set up dozens of mannequins all over the sidewalk, and they were all pointed in his direction. A chill ran up his spine. "_So smile folks SCCT-_**smile you smug bastards or I'll carve one into you fucking fa**_-SCCT-because we happy few-SCCCT-_**Stop whining you little **_shit-SCCTCH-We've got social affairs! We've got TV to watch-SCTTT-_**no depth perception**_-SHHCT-Music to listen to-_**listen close and I will end you-_Lüfter Fiktion TO RE_**_-SCCTTT!"_ Dipper pressed himself against the frame of the automobile, holding his knife in case any of the mannequins sprung to life and attacked, as he tried to puzzle out the meaning of his enemy's cryptic words. _Okay, so lufter sounds like Lucifer, and I know fink is an old fashioned insult for an informer. _Dipper's straw grasping was interrupted by yet another transmission. "_So come down to Blackwell man-_**they beat the shit out of her, but the bell was still broken**-_SCCCCTTT-I'll see you there!" _ Pulling out the map he had stolen from a shop not too far back, he located the manor quite easily. It was on the west side, alone atop hill, not too far from the prep school. And it was down Matheson Street and to the left, per the instructions of his insane foe. Sighing, followed his only lead, and ran off into the white as the radio began to play _"1940."_

**-=0=-**

"Four, nine, six, three." The jubilicious tween smiled as the door clicked open, and she flung it open. As she gazed inside the meat locker, she was hit with a blast of cold air, and hugged the sweater closer to her own body as she stepped inside. Grabbing the car keys with lay in a pile of meat, Mabel creeped back out, shivering and tugging the sweater over her legs the whole way. As she exited the room it occurred to her that it might be difficult to drive the bus without adult sized legs. Deciding to cross that bridge when she came to it, Mabel gathered up her food and water, placing it all inside her backpack, before turning in the direction of the exit. The cafeteria doors burst open, and Mabel shrunk back into the shadows when she saw a huge creature enter. Like everything else she had encountered, it lack a face, merely have a immense fleshy lump, which seemed to balance of a stick of a neck. Its arms were huge and flabby, with the fat hanging off the sides of it, and a butcher's knife the size of her head in its left hand. In the other hand it held a meat hook, which was connected to a chain fused into the monstrosity's backside.

The creature moaned like a beached whale, or a harpooned one for that matter. It seemed to glance around, somehow identifying the fact that she was not in the dining area, despite lacking eyes, a nose or ears. It turned and lumbered towards the kitchen, each step seeming to shake the room, chairs and tables knocked aside by its sheer girth. Glancing around, Mabel spotted a cupboard beneath one of the sinks, and opened it slowly so as to prevent a creek, before climbing inside and easing it close. She slowed her breath and tried to calm herself, but was startled when the creature knocked over a stack of pots and pans. _Please just go away, please, please, please. _Her fingers crossed, she closed her eyes, and shifted around in the dark when she found a pipe digging into her shin.

There was a slamming sound, and Mabel opened her eyes, pushing the door open a crack, and peering outside. The monster it seemed, had entered the meat locker. _Perfect! _Jumping out, she ran across the grimy floor, and slammed the door closed, locking it with lightning speed. As she stepped back, the creature began to pound on the door in an extremely intimidating manner. Dust was released, and the whole kitchen shook with every blow that the abomination struck against the iron door. The adventurous pre-teen turned, and was about to run out the open doors, when she spotted a couple of cans which had been knocked off the upper shelf.

_Leave it! _ But she didn't. She sprinted forward, and grabbed the rations, before turning and exiting the kitchen just as the door broke with a stupendous crash. The creature roared in anger, and ran after the tween as she skidded down the hall, moving much faster than it had previously. Hearing the whipping sound of the metal hook circling and then penetrating the air, Mabel leaped to the side in time to watch the hook dig into the ground, and pull out plaster and stone. Trying to ignore how loud the beast was getting and how she could smell its chunky blood oozing from its flaccid skin, Mabel convinced herself that the entrance to the back was nearby, and that this thing wouldn't be able to get her once she got on a bus. Two wasp-lungs darted out and reached towards her with clawed hands, but the pre-teen ducked between their legs, and the butcher monster slammed through them like a bowling ball.

Their legs and arms were torn off by the sheer force, and Mabel heard the sound of their porcelain masks breaking against the stone ground. Turning the corner once again, Mabel skidded to a halt and wavered precariously in front of the large hole in the ground. The moaning sounds of the creature caused Mabel's heart to beat like a tribal war drum, and the twelve year old bit her lip, before backtracking, and taking a running jump. She was winded when he stomach hit the other side, and it took a moment for the young brunette to regain her bearings, and climb to her feet. The meat hook sliced through the air, and tore into her backside, causing the injured pre-teen to scream and fall to the ground. She clutched the injured spot in pain, and the monster raised the chain again, preparing to unleash another wicked strike.

Mabel pulled out her gun and, fired through eyes, blurry from tears of pain. BANG! The creature was slightly stunned. BANG! BANG! The creature wobbled, and almost toppled forward. It raised the hook again, but Mabel exchanged her pistol with her grappling hook, and fired the hook into the faceless brute's knee. Slamming on the retract button, Mabel watched the creature lose all semblance of balance and fall face forwards into the pit. The hook flew up into the air, and slammed down her side, digging into the tile floor, and preventing the abomination from disappearing into the void below. Mabel was too tired, and in too much pain to remove the hook with her hands, instead she lay on her stomach, shaking in pain, and kicking at the hook unsuccessfully. Fortunately for the twelve year old, the chain could not sustain the weight of her obese adversary, and the metal pole which connected the monster and the chain was torn asunder, causing the murderous atrocity to disappear into the abyss, along with bits of bone, flesh, and muscle mass.

**-=0=-**

It took a long time for Mabel to get to her feet, she had to convince herself over and over again that Dipper and Stan were relying on her. She had pulled her bruised shins and scarped knees across the ground as she searched for support. She had to grip the table which lay on its side, and pull harder than she ever had previously, just to stand. So with two bullets in her gun, she stalked the last two hallways and stumbled down a flight of stairs. The pain made her dizzy, and she fell down the last five steps, and hurting her head. Upon pushing open the door which led to the parking lot, she made sure that it was devoid of life, before re-entering the foggy world outside. It took her a moment to read all the numbers, and locate the correct bus, but once she had opened it, and climbed inside, she closed the door, and snuggled into the driver's seat. Unhooking the backpack which had brought so much misery to her mauled backside, she let it topple to the floor, and dried her tears against the cushioning of the seat.

She began thinking about her brother, and recalled the time she had fallen off her bike and scraped her knee, and he had picked her up (she had been smaller than him at the time), taken her home, and bandaged it himself since their parents had been out at the time. She remembered him kissing it, and telling her that the pain would go away soon. She remembered him shooing away the girls who would bully her, and pretending he didn't feel pain when she hugged him, accidentally pressing against the bruises that his schoolmates had awarded him for his individuality. _You've got to be brave for his sake. _She remembered Stan telling her that she was a winner no matter what, and giving her the grappling hook which had saved her life so many times today. _For their sake. _Opening her eyes, she gulped in a breath of stale arm, and spotted a drink which lay in the cup holder.

Thirsty, she opened it, and downed the contents of the bottle, enjoying the feeling of liquid running against her throat, sore from her screams. Then the world started to become blurry, and she felt the pain in her back begin vanish. The pain all over her body seemed to dissipate, and when the whiteness which clouded her view disappeared, and she examined her body, finding that her cuts had disappeared. She looked down at the bottle, and found that there was still a little bit left. Storing in her back pack for later, the regenerated pre-teen grabbed some sticks from outside, and tied them to her feet with pieces of fallen telephone cord, form nearby. She then did her best to pull out, only knocking over the mail box, but not the trash receptacle.

Then she turned the wheel, mimicking the actions of the adults in her life. Her radio began to play _"Eve of Destruction" _as she hit the gas, and rammed through the Blackwell gate, coming to a screeching stop in front of the mansion, before grabbing her things, and jumping out. She entered through the open doors, and held her gun at the ready as she flicked on her flashlight, and ascended the stairs. _Don't worry guys, I'm coming. _

_**-=0=-**_

**_Props + an invisible, intangible cake for anyone who figures out what the Radio Man was saying!_**

**_-avidreader-everafter: Thank you for your support! Updates should be slightly more regular since "Jealous of a twelve year old" is over!_**


	8. Chapter 8

**-=0=-**

Dipper gulped. He was staring across the rickety bridge which traversed the pit and led to Blackwell manor. He wouldn't trust it to hold up a fly, let alone his own form.

But his analytical mind could find no other way across the pit, so he sprinted forward, his shoes creating echoing sounds on the wet cobblestone. He was moving too fast however and slipped downwards, slamming into the right side of the bridge, which was lower than the rest. Staring into the cavernous void below, his eyes opened when he saw what hung from the bottom of the bridge. Bodies, dozens of bodies, all hung from chains, connected to the nails drilled into their wrists, ankles and knee caps. Crows clustered on the shoulders of their meals, picking at the corpses with narrow beaks, stripping the cadavers of their skin slowly. Standing up, he half walked, half climbed to the left side of the collapsing bridge, and continued on his way. More crows resided on the railing of the bridge, cawing threateningly they served to remind him that there were dead people beneath his feet. _What if that's what they do to me if they catch me? What if they already, did that to Stan or Mabel?! _He tried to keep from panicking, but his disquietude grew to such a degree, that he had no choice but to slide down to the left side.

The anxious pre-teen stopped right by the edge, asking himself if he really wanted to look back at the horrible sight below. _I have to know though. I have to know. _Biting his lip, he prepared himself in case the paranoid, useless part of his brain turned out to be right. He didn't want to be so shocked that he fell off. _Or do you? _He could imagine escaping with merely his twin, he had grown attached to his great uncle, and Mable wouldn't be the same, but he had only known the old man for a summer. And not even that. But if his sister died…what kind of life could he lead without Mabel?

_You'll never be able to explain this to Mom and Dad, at least without Stan's backing. They would think you're crazy, they would lock you up. Trapped, with those radios on the ceiling, with cameras always watching, and nurses going up and down the halls. _ _It would be Hell, specially made just for you._ _Your parents might visit you on weekends. Maybe not even that. Doctors would poke you and drug you, and if you're lucky they won't hold you down and try to electrocute the madness out of you. You could fake ignorance but again, what kind of a world would it be without Mabel? There's no one like her, and you're not particularly good at making friends. You'd never be able to listen to radios again. You'd hate nurses and lampposts. You'd probably die alone. That's if you escape of course, because if they're both dead, then suicide would be preferable to letting the insane spirits in charge of this place do with you as they please._

"ENOUGH!" Realizing that he had just silenced his own rampaging imagination, Dipper cringed and removed his hands from the railing. _I need to find them soon, not just for their sake, but mine. _So wrapped up in the morbid what ifs of the situation, the young detective had been unaware that his grip on the railing was steadily increasing. Now his knuckles were white from exercise, and he had to shake them to get circulation back into them. Promising himself that he wasn't going to do anything crazy, he peered over the crumbling railing, and tried to identify whether or not any of the bodies below were blood family. Several of the bodies slightly resembled Stan, but without clothes, or many physical features, it was impossible to tell. There were however, no corpses that were Mabel sized, which lifted a great weight from Dipper's heart. Incredibly relived by this discovery, he climbed back onto the level ground, and began running in the direction of Blackwell's broken gates.

**-=0=-**

Stan crawled across the ground as the mounted animal heads on the wall spat out blobs of toxic material. The stuff struck the carpeting violently, and hissed, creating a sickly sweet smell. With a hand over his mouth, the elder bolted upright, and ran towards the staircase as the heads released a new barrage. Just making it, Stan laughed and mocked to the immobile banes. "See that's the advantage of having legs, I can run away from crap like you!" Chuckling, the old man began climbing the stairs, a map of the building below informed him that the manor had four levels, and he had assumed that the villains were at the top floor.

The first level had been abandoned, and the second floor had been home to more twin monsters, and those acid spitting animal heads. Upon reaching the third level, he stopped to catch his breath and glanced around. Seeing no enemies, he moved from the banister to the hall, finding that this part of the house was well lit and actually quite pleasant. Then the whole hall began to rumble, the fixtures breaking, and the cupboard drawers slid out. The chandelier swung back and forth like a pendulum, and the floor boards began to buckle beneath his feet.

Turning, he watched Archie's brother materialize at the top of the stairs. Surrounded by a ball of glowing energy, he zipped forward, roaring agonizingly. Stan turned on his heels, and ran down the hall, finding that the ball of energy was pulling him and everything else for that matter, towards it like a black hole. The man roared again, just as the elder had to dart to the side to avoid being stuck by the family portraits which were yanked off the wall, and incinerated when they reached the monster. Not daring to turn around, Stan turned down the left hall, and ran towards the lounge room at the end of it. But the hall began to extend itself, more wood, wallpaper and identical paintings and side tables popping out of nowhere as the creature closed in on him. Running out of stamina, the endless hall continued to restrict him from the luxury of escape and rest, and the once-human behind him started to burn away at his suit, exposure to the same air it seemed, was toxic.

Gasping for breath, the senior forced himself into one last sprint, and outran the hall. Screeching into the lounge, he slammed the door close just as the Lust brother arrived. Instead of breaking through the thin wood as expected, the creature was somehow stopped, and Stan collapsed on the lounge chair, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute. A roaring fire sparked about in the hearth, warming the damp room, and giving some light in the cold dark. The wallpaper was peeling off, so Stan stared at the fire instead of the walls. The phonograph by the window sill played _"Pretty Polly" _which mixed with the raging storm outside to create a peculiar sound. Neither pleasant nor alarming, it did nothing but make him feel extremely uncomfortable. Glancing at the painting above the fire, he noticed that his adversary, the gas mask wearing lunatic, stood next to two children in the picture. Their hair was ashen, and they both wore a school uniform, black as coal. But the most alarming and noticeable features, were those which the artist had not intended to put in. For someone had taken the liberty to gouge out the center of their eyes, and a strange liquid dribbled out.

Smiles had also been carved on their mouths. Despite this, and his inability to see their eyes, the boy and the girl both looked miserable, their cheeks and hints of expression speaking for them. The well-dressed man crossed his arms, handing each their own gas masks. Both lifesaving masks were smaller and slightly resembled Mickey Mouse, in a way that, like the children's grins, was more disturbing then endearing. If the music wasn't creepy enough, the painting did it for him. Standing up, he tore the painting off the wall in one violent motion, and stabbed it into the fire, watching the children and their insane companion burned. _I don't know what the fuck this place is, but I'm not gonna let it fuck with my head._ The song ended, and he moved to the door. Opening it, he pulled out his pipe in case there was anything nearby, and entered the darkened hallway. He winced with every creak that his shoes made against the floor boards, and noticed more paintings lining the walls. More of the children, some of a father staring blankly at the camera with the boy under his arm. The boy was smiling despite his father's gloom. In the next picture they were having a picnic, the boy and the girl smiling like idiots, and not even paying attention as the camera captured the adult's stoic demeanor.

It seemed in all the pictures, no matter what the occasion, the children were happy. That soon changed however. Towards the end of the hallway, the quality of the pictures decreased, and the children grew older, eventually becoming taller than their parents. They were gangly, but still looked strong, almost inhumanly so. The girl cut her hair, making it short, something quite unnatural at the time these pictures were taken. By contrast the boy grew his hair out, it becoming a tangled mess of knots, with leaves and what looked like dead bugs sticking out. Due to the similarity of their faces, and the fact that neither wore a dress (another uncommon thing for the time), it became quite difficult for the mesmerized con artist to tell the difference between the aging twins. As they grew older, the smiles dissipated, until the teens could only stare at the camera with blank expressions while the mother and father looked struck by morbid fear. Then the mother and father simply, vanished.

Ceasing to be, all the pictures after the sixteenth birthday party depicted only the twins, occasionally with something dark dribbling out the corner of the mouth, or staining a pale hand. Their teeth became sharpened to a fine point, their hair became a total mess, and their skin began to be covered in tattoos, and scars, all of which resembles triangles and pentagrams. As the symbols on their skin grew in number, their smiles returned, and the captivated senior found himself staring at the final picture in a feeling of sickening realization.

The boy was alone in the picture, holding a butcher's knife in one hand, his mouth was covered in a syrupy black liquid. His grin would have put the Cheshire cat to shame, and his pupils were dilating. But if one were to ignore the center of the photo, and focus on what was behind him, then they would become just as horrified as Stan. For in the hall behind him, three nooses hung, silhouetted against light cast by the kitchen, and carved into the wall behind him, right beneath a portrait of his father, the Halo of the Sun was painted in dripping blood. A hand struck the stunned miser across the back of the head, and he fell to the floor. Rubbing his head he stared up at his menacing attacker. The creature had a fish like head, with big with eyes, devoid of life, and hanging jaw full of sharpened teeth.

Its skin was pulled taught over its thin bones, and its head was bent lower than its shoulders. A chain was wrapped around its left arm, nails securing the bond, and its cargo. A metal orb roughly the size of a pomegranate. The fish faced creature raised the ball into the air slightly, before swinging it down in his direction. Stan rolled to the side, before waking the fragile creature across the front with his wrench. Watching it topple to the ground, he smiled and exited the hall as it regained consciousness. There were two more flail holders standing between him and the fourth floor, and they swung their weapons about threateningly, snapping their mouths open and closed. The first one crawled out of the back hall, and leapt to its feet.

Pinned, Stanford gripped his wrench for all it was worth, and punched the one to his right. Then he swiveled around, and slammed the wrench into the creature's exposed jaw, hearing sickening cracking sound as he kicked it in the stomach and sent it toppling over. He turned around just in time to avoid being struck by the third monster's iron ball, and grabbed the chain, pulling the creature forward and mashing his fist into its face. It fell to the floor, slithering away with a whimper, its iron ball rolling behind it.

The second one leaped up, just in time to receive a double punch, to be thrown against the ceiling. The third however was recovering, and despite its broken jaw, and lack of proper vision, it whipped out the flail, and slammed its distracted foe in the stomach with it. Winded, and internally bleeding, Stan leaned against the wall for support with his right hand, and fumbled with his revolver with the other.

The atrocity stepped forward, hissing mockingly, before swinging the wrecking ball into the air. Stan ducked to the side, watching the metal ball penetrate the wall, and send splinters flying everywhere. Grabbing his fallen wrench, he launched it at the creature, watching the metal bar slam into the side of the humanoids face, and it collapse onto the ground. Watching the corpses and the weapons nailed to their form fade into nothingness, Stan pulled out his second to last Ampoule, hesitating, before realizing how difficult it was to breathe, and taking a long gulp. Then he began his ascent to the fourth floor.

**-=0=-**

Mabel creeped down the hallway of the second floor. Careful not to alert the butcher-monster to her presence, she walked on her tip toes, and tried to avoid the extra creaky looking boards. A chandelier hung ahead of her, and rocked precariously with every step taken by the faceless monstrosity. Plaster fell from the ceiling, staining the portrait of a boy standing next to a deep well. Biting her lip, she hesitated before continuing on. The stairs were just up ahead, and the abomination was closing in.

Gulping, she sped up her motions, knowing from experience that she could outrun the monster if need be. But just as she passed the chandelier, there was a slamming sound above, and the massive piece of metal and glass came hurling down towards her. She jumped to the side, but her foot went through a rotting floor board, and she had to clamp a hand over her own mouth to stop the monster from hearing her cries of pain. To make matters worse the sleeve of her right arm was caught on the sharp edge of the chandelier, so she could only pull her swollen ankle out with one hand. She had just about removed her foot, when she heard giggling coming from behind.

Half turning, she saw an eyeless, noseless creature grinning at her. Devoid of hair of ears, its smile was the many feature of the scrappy gremlin. About the size of a toddler, its mouth was full of sharp teeth, and its hands had slender claws which in clasped and unclasped as a reflex. Grey in coloration, the creature walked on stubby legs. Its grin widened as her horror grew, and she tried to wriggle out of the sweater, for fear of the creature slicing open her wrist.

The fiend did no such thing however, instead, it pulled back the sleeve of her sweater, and began pulling her bracelet off. A new kind of horror stuck her and she thrashed against it, yanking her foot out and tearing the sleeve just as the grinning monster removed her precious memento. "Give it back you meanie! Dipper made that for me!" The creature merely giggled, and ruan down a hall to the right of the stairs. Mabel rushed after it, but stopped herself. _Stan and Dipper are probably waiting for you at the top, aren't their lives more important than a bracelet? _Glancing between the stairs and the side passage, the brunette struggled with indecision. Finally, unable to stand there any longer, she ran down the side passage, in search of the thief.

**-=0=-**

Dipper blew the dust off the bottom of the building plan, noting that the basement and cellar linked up to create and whole floor underneath. He knew however, that if a man on the radio was going to be anywhere, it would be on the top floor. Turning towards the decrepit staircase, he regarded it like a wild animal, before sighing and beginning the journey up the triangularly shaped spiral stair case.

**-=0=-**

The final slack jawed monster fell, and Stan stumbled towards the elevator. He was surrounded by the bodies of his enemies, now out of bullets for both his pistol and his shotgun (which he had broken over the head of a fish-face), he had nothing but his wrench, which drew slack in his hand, and was covered in gore from frequent use. It turned out that the fourth floor had no stairs, and the only way to reach the top was via this elevator. The senior pressed his blood soaked fingers onto the old fashioned button meant to call the metal box. He would normally slam it, the impatient soul that he was, but his knuckles were raw from breaking the bones of his attackers. There was a long moment, which he used to compose himself. He knew that he would be facing Archibald's brother soon, and had only the scrap of metal in his left hand for defense. _But there counting on me, I have to try. _

He wasn't used to this whole "throwing your life in harm's way for others" thing, but it felt good to care about not just one person, but two, for the first time in nearly thirty years. The doors opened, and the elevator bathed the elder and the massacre behind him in deceitful golden light. Stan was almost surprised by the machine's passenger, he could practically picture the smile beneath the man's gas mask. _"Well Stanford, this is certainly a surprise…" _He glared at the wolf in sheep's clothing, and his hand tightened around his weapon.

Somehow though, he knew it wouldn't be useful. _"Climb in Stanford. There's room for one more you know." _As he uttered that damming sentence, he stepped to the side, revealing that there was in fact, just enough room for one more passenger in the gold cage. Sighing, the old man stepped aboard, and his hated foe took hold of the lever which brought the elevator to the selected floor. _"Are you going up…or down?"_ The swindler glanced at the sadistic suit, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Could you be any more obvious about your intentions?" The creature chuckled, _"My creators aren't the subtlest trans-dimensional daemons on the block." _ Stan sighed, and upon realizing that the well-dressed monster would not take him where he wanted unless told specifically (even though he was pretty sure it knew exactly where he was going), the elder relented. "Top floor." Again her could hear the smirk in his enemies voice, and the image of snapping off his head came to mind. _"I hope you enjoy paradise Stan Pines…cause after all…" _Stan turned away, staring at the walls of the tiny elevator as _"Nightmare" _began playing on the radio. _"…nothing last forever…" _

**-=0=-**

Mabel smiled as she cornered the cretin, standing between the monster and the office's one doorway. She had been running out of breath, and deathly afraid of losing the cherished object. Pulling out her gun, she watched the creature start to cower. _As it's smarter than all the others. _She sighed as sympathy for the creature grew and she decided to give it a chance.

"Give me the bracelet and I won't kill you." The creature seemed to understand her, stepping closer and removing the gift from behind its back. Then it grinned like a lunatic, and dropped the bracelet into its mouth. "NO!" Mabel tried to stop it, but the creature slashed her across the cheek with a dirty claw, and giggled as she fell over, tears springing to her eyes form a combination of sadness and pain. _It's gone. _The creature began to grow, becoming taller, a little bulkier, and growing a large horn which pierced the center of its forehead obscenely.

Roaring in deep laughter which was on the opposite of the spectrum, from its previous laugh, a high pitched giggle. Hopping to her feet, the tween glared up at her attacker. "You wanna fight so badly? I've fought stuff that makes you look like a WHIMP!" The creature roared, revealing two rows of teeth which reminded the brunette of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. It swiped at her, and she faked left, before ducking to the right, and grabbing a sword from off the wall. The creature charged her, and she rolled to the side, watching it slam into the wall.

The dazed creature regained its senses in time to hear her mocking laughter, and it turned, picking up the desk and flinging it towards her. Mabel narrowly avoided being struck, and stabbed her blade into the creature's foreleg. The beast moaned in pain, and kicked her with a clawed foot, sending her flying backwards into the wall. Moaning in pain she slid to the floor, and stared up at the predator as it closed in.

**-=0=-**

Dipper skulked through the shadows, avoiding the gaze of the portraits whose eyes had been replaced with similar devices to the street lamps. The only real difference was that there was two of them for each painting, and that if the beams of light touched you, they would freeze you rather then burn you. They were more difficult to avoid, but Dipper found it still fairly easy. He knew that the stairs to the fourth floor was nearby, and he desperately searched for it, convinced that is was nearby. Opening the door to an office, he stepped inside and stopped dead in his tracks. A sense of déjà vu overcame the pre-teen as he stared at the message, which had been smeared in blood atop the newspapers which covered the walls.

**WIR SIND NICHT, WAS WIR SIND, WIR SIND NUR DAS, WAS WIR WAREN. **

_What the hell does that even mean? _He heard a growling sound, and glanced around, trying to see any hints of nearby enemies. He scanned the room, only identifying the torn up newspaper and crumpled notes scattered across the floor. Gulping, the investigator stepped closer to the desk, and glanced over the edge, unable to find the creator of the growl. "Wh-whatever you are, you can just come out now…you're not gonna scare me…" Static crackled over the radio on the desk, and a familiar voice chilled him to the bone. _"Are you sure about that boyo?" _

There was a howl, and he turned to see a hideous creature snarling back. Its face was split in two, and its arms were connected by an old fashioned hacksaw. The creature was much taller than him, even though it was bent over, with its head and fused arms sticking out form between its legs, and the creature's back in a total curve. Snarling, its split face revealed a number of intimidating fangs, similar to that of a tarantula, and the creature charged forwards, swinging the rusty teeth back in forth in front of him. He avoided its attack, but slamming into the desk by accident, and had to duck to avoid a decapitation. Dipper glanced around for a weapon, quickly realizing that melee was not a good way to combat this abomination.

The monster charged, and Dipper ran to the left side of the desk, accidentally bumping into the wall. His vision turned to the object beneath the desk as the creature moaned further, and stampeded forward. Dipper jumped to the ground, causing his foe to become stuck on the splintery wall, and allowing him to get a hand of the weapon. Raising the hunting rifle into the air, he fired at the split-face. It howled in pain, and tore the hack saw out of the wall, sending dust everywhere. Dipper fired again, this time striking the creature in the face.

The tall contortionist continued its attack however, mildly slowed by the profuse bleeding from its face. The young boy fired a third shot into one of the legs which bent away from him, crippling the monster, and giving him the time to kick and beat the creature till it stopped twitching. Sighing, he stepped away from the fading corpse, and found a packet of bullets for the rifle in the top left drawer. Ignoring the warning written in blood, he continued on his way, finding the stairs too far ahead.

_**-=0=-**_

**_About two more chapters are left in this story. What's your favorite horror movie?_**


	9. Chapter 9

***-=0=-***

Dipper stared down at the knife in his right hand, the deafened green light of the chandelier shone off the edge of it, and the lone figure found himself mesmerized by the slime colored light. It only reflected on one part because the blade was soaked in gore, much like the twelve year old who held it. The bodies of three bulgy, hacksaw equipped monsters lay behind him, and five creatures with a bulbous head, the metal teeth, and the glass shards for eyes surrounded him. His rifle lay on the ground next to a corpse, which was indistinguishable in the putrid darkness.

He had run out of bullets, and the device had taken a swing from one of the slit-faced slasher beasts, before breaking in two. Dipper gave dark laugh and tossed the half shattered knife against the wall, turning his attention to the staircase. It was in a much worse condition than the last three flights of stairs, pieces missing and boards sticking into the air like spikes. There wasn't carpeting or railing on this one either, and instead of leading to another brightly lit area, it seemed to disappear into the darkness above. As his gaze reached the top of the stairs, the door creaked open, causing a spike of eerie red light to fill the grand hall, as if the house itself was beckoning him forward. Sighing, he began ascending the darkened steps, speaking to himself as he reached the barely open door, Dipper found his own voice bizarre and alien. "Top floor, _here I come…_"

**-=[0]=-**

The doors opened, and Stan stared out at the building's top floor. Essentially an attic, the area was filled with discarded junk, and rotting furniture. Considering that this town was full of old forgotten things, the objects withheld by this attic, could barely be described as anything other than refuse. The area was barely lit, the only light coming from the faded windows, which created pillars of deep blue light, which pierced the darkness, and gave the dusty area an even eerier feel. _"I do believe that someone is waiting for you…" _The gas mask wearing maniac behind him giggled, and shoved him off the elevator, causing the senior to fall to his knees, and hear the dumbwaiter descend as he pushed himself to his feet. _Stupid schmuck. _

Stan moved down the path created by the two walls of trash, glancing between the piles, his muscles were tensed, prepared for action. He didn't know what he could possibly do his opponent, but he knew that it was better to improvise, then to surrender. But with no sound in the loft besides the creaking of the boards underfoot, and his own ragged breath, the elder found himself overcome with paranoia. Everything that could possibly go wrong started to flood his mind, and he began to panic like a mouse before a rhino. _What if I fail? What'll happen to Dipper and Mabel? What if the spirits behind this place are just messing with me, and they already killed them. How would I ever be able to explain this to their parents? _Images of being held responsible seeped into his mind, and mixed with memories of jail life. _You are responsible, you brought them to this place, and you abandoned them. If those two die, if either of them dies, then you deserve whatever you have coming to you._ Static filled his ears, and he gripped the side of his head, his face scrunching up in pain as his hearing aid created a piercing synthetic shriek.

"What the he-AGHHH!" He clutched his ear harder, drawing blood when his gnarly clipped finger nails dug into the skin. He felt as though the static had entered his head, pounded on the sides of his head, like he could somehow remove it. Then the excruciating sound was interrupted by a voice. But the human continued to be interrupted by the static, coming out in undecipherable chops of dialogue. Just when Stan was ready to throw himself down the air shaft, the frequency seemed to stabilize, and gibberish turned to English. **_"GRGBLGAG_**_-ladies and gentlemen-_**hooting apes the lot of you, all that's missing is the banan**_-Tonight we have a VERY special matchup, and this man has travelled long and far to die for your amusement! Give him a round of applause ladi-_**whores-**_and gentlem-_**hardmen**_!" _Stan glanced around, trying, and failing to locate the device transmitting the disturbing message. _Maybe it really is in my head? Maybe I've finally snapped. _The voice returned, this time directly addressing him._ "HAHAHA! You snapped a long time ago, my good-_**sonofabitch**-_friend!" _Stan glanced around, still trying to figure out how this person could see him.

"How did you-who are you? What do you want with me and my family?" _"HAHAHA! What first? Well as for how I can tell what you're thinking, it's the same way I can tell what everyone is thinking. I can read your frontal lobe like a teleprompter. I can flick between memories in your hippocampus, like a slob in front of his fuckin' TV. Your amygdala is mine to control Pines, see that's the thing, people think the one safe place, is their minds. But there wrong. I know every second in your miserable life you old cod. I was there with you, the whole way." _Stan gulped, glancing around in the darkness above, his voice almost failing him. "Y-your lying…" The voice returned, booming and smug, he could picture its owner smiling. Not even a face, or teeth, just a smile, the barest idea of the thing, placed upon a unimaginable fiend._ "Am I now? Well that could be true, I am good at lying. Not as good as Bill, but I have my own ways of making-_**tear it out of their fucking skull**_-people forget things. I have my own way of-_**watching you right up 'till the worms devour your mortal husk**_-watching people."_ Stan licked his lips, wondering how the voice could know about Bill, and then snarling when the man on the radio replied to the unasked question.

_"I'm not the same kinda demon you may be accustomed to. But I've been around the block, so to speak. And I can prove that I have been with you and I know everything about you. I know you grew up in a small town in New Jersey, that was barely bigger or livelier then this one. I know all the obscenities you screamed at Fiddleford McGucket after your brother got stuck in a different dimension." _Stan's eyes widened, and he felt the world slipping out from under him. "_I know the name of the man you accidentally put in a coma while in prison. I know about every sexual fantasy you had about your FIFTEEN YEAR OLD cashier. And as being who treats the Holocaust like a porno,_ _I must say, that you Stan Pines, are one of the closest to a kindred spirit that I have found in my eternity of trapping souls here."_ The old man heard a familiar roar in the background, but wasn't paying attention. He was consumed by repugnance. He was enraged at being tortured by this unseeable god for its amusement. His loathing for this being, forcing his nephew and niece into a similar situation, was barely contained, as his fists clenched hard enough to that he re-opened the wounds on his knuckles. And his hatred was complete upon the discovery that not only had this abhorrent creature raped his mind of its secrets, but had the audacity to compare itself to him.

_"I'm not joking, MR. MYSTERY, you and I are kindred spirits. You, you are just one of the most sycophantic, cowardly, easy to detest, man on earth." _The old man quivered with rage, speaking in a low voice which he knew his accuser could hear nonetheless. "Shut, _the hell up_." The voice continued, ignoring him. _"I'm not joking here folks, if there was an award for causing problems and running away, this man would have won dozens of those awards. Not only that, but he has risked life and limb to save two children, so that he can continue to lie to them about his motives. Just…bravo! Everyone give him a round of applause!" _Clapping filled the room, almost drowning out more roars. More animal then man, the miser began screaming obscenities at the voice and "the audience".

He shook his fist, still clenched hard enough to make his knuckles go ghost white. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU TWISTED SON OF A BITCH! I swear, if I ever get my hands on you, then I-I, well if I ever get my hands on you there'll be hell on earth!" His threat was met with more laughter, and "the audience" fell into hysterics. The voice returned to his microphone, speaking as though he was brushing tears from his eyes. _"That…HAHAHA, that is SO funny. HAHAHA you really know how to tell a joke Stanford. The-HAHAHA-the reason why it's funny, is that you say _"there'll be hell on earth." _And that's funny because…pfft, you're already there!" _The left wall of trash was blown to bits, and the living Lust brother (if you can call that living) howled and tossed a blast of energy in Stanford's direction. The stunned elder could only just duck to the side, collapsing on the ground as the voice blared over the sounds of its minion's howls.

_"Now, back to your scheduled broadcasting-_**let's watch these two idiots tear each other apart-**_ To your left, standing 6ft 1, and weighing in at 165 pounds…the man of mystery himself…the champion of Haitian cage wrestling… Stan-**Stanley-Satan**-Stanford Pines! Let's hope he doesn't leave too large of a stain, folks."_ There was uproarious laughter at his expense, and the invisible crowd began cheering for his opponent, telling the trapped soul to "eviscerate and decapitate him." _"And in the opposite corner…" _Stan rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding another blast as his blue skinned foe continued to stay at a distance, as if waiting for a queue from its sadistic master. _"Standing 8ft 3, and weighing in at 600 pounds (including that neat metal hoop he's got)…the warlock who reached too far…the only living member of the Lust family, who was abandoned by his brother (no longer needed, no longer with us), he sought revenge, and killed his brother, who…when the time came, EMBRACED DEATH…I give you…" _

Stan desperately searched a weapon. A pipe, a 2x4, a sturdy board, literally anything would be preferable to using his fists. _"DANIEL LUST!"_ The world began to change, pieces of it falling off like paper and revealing a dark, rusty world, twice as large. Just as his reality began to transform, Stan grabbed some brass knuckles which lay on a crate. _Better than nothing,_ he thought, upon inspecting the spiked devices. He knew that his fists were raw, and that just getting close to the monster was a bad idea.

Unrewarded with an alternative, he glanced around the arena, trying to get a better sense of where he was. The ground had become stone, and he now stood in the center of a coliseum shaped structure, with the stands abandoned despite the near deafening sound of spectators. Stan avoided the charge of his foe, leaping to the side, and watching the enraged monster slam into the wall of the arena. "C'mon you big lug, come get me!" The creature turned back to him, and roared again, before charging for a second time. Stan moved to the side again, but this time he slammed one of his encased knuckles into his opponent's shoulder. Smiling he watched the now slightly injured abomination crashed into the wall once again, sending stone everywhere, and creating a cloud which blocked Stan's view and caused him to cough violently.

The man on the radio continued to add his input as the shyster backed away from his now unseen attacker. _"Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that the old curmudgeon is holding his own, I'm takin all bet's that he last five minutes! What say you? Five? Four? Three? Six?" _Ignoring the voice, Stan tried to focus on locating any movement, from inside the swirling dust. His glasses fogged over however, and just as he removed them, Daniel Lust slammed into him from behind, and sent the older gentleman flying into the same area where he had struck the wall. His glasses shatter, causing pieces of glass to painfully lodge themselves in his hand, and Stan slumped to the floor with his world now spinning like a top.

His opponent roared again, and his golf-hole sized mouth widened, revealing dozens of razor sharp teeth, and creating a menacing and spine chilling smile. The monstrosity darted forward and grabbed his collar, and raised him to eye level, causing his feet to kick and dangle in the air uselessly. _"Well that makes three minutes everyone, three and thirty seconds. I wonder how Dippy and Mabel will react to this course of events. Of course, I'll have to tell them before we begin to drive them insane…" _Stan growled like an animal, and pressed a mud soaked loafer against the chest of the azure being, pushing as hard as possible, he kicked the creature in the neck as he punched the creature's mouth from either side.

The beast growled, and Stan felt his hands break against the stone-like fangs. He succeeded however, in breaking off several of his foes teeth, as well as winding the mutated convoker. Chocking for air, the old man clenched a broken hand around a pile of dust, and tossed it into the eyes of Lust as the creature tried to grab him. Howling in pain, the beast stumbled backwards, and accidentally broke one of the pieces of barbwire which held him to the hovering ring. With one arm not held down, the creature screamed and started tearing at the other pieces of wire which slithered into his arms and legs.

_He wants out as much as me. _Stan leapt onto his opponent, trying to ignore as it slammed its left arm into his ribs, cracking them under the immense strength of each blow. Instead of fighting back however, Stan tore at the wire with his teeth, and closed his arms around it, tearing it off even without use of his arms. Daniel kicked him in the stomach and shattered his shoulder blade via biting into it.

The old man screamed in agony, and went flying backwards with a second kick. His vision blackened as the pain drove him into the land of unconscious, but he managed to make a tiny smile as trapped individual tore bits of himself off, both hands now free from the control of his masters. The last thing he saw was Daniel Lust torn to pieces by the swirling vortex behind him. Then a man, dressed in funeral attire all except his gas mask, walked over to him, and pressed his gloved thumbs against the old man's half open eyelids, closing them silently.

**-=000=-**

Mabel awoke, and found herself lying in a rusty cage, which dangled over a suspended metal platform. The cage was shaped like a canaries, and the bars appeared to be made from copper due to their faded green coloration. Sitting up she tried to remember what the last thing she had seen was, deciding that it had probably been the hand of her foe coming down on her. Placing her hands on the metal bars, she attempted to squeeze between them, but found that they were far too tightly packed. Groaning, she huffed, and reached up through the bars which resided above her. The tips of her fingers brushed the chain which held the cage aloft, but she was unable to do anything other than stroke the wet surface. Turning to her final resort, Mabel began to jump up and down, hoping to cause the giant bird cage to fall.

The chain pulled taught with every stamp, and the sounds of her efforts filled the huge room, drawing the attention of her warden. The huge creature responsible for her predicament, entered from the huge doorway on the right side of the bridge, and stomped out onto the bridge, staring up at her and snarling. The brunette swallowed, and glanced at the darkness on either side of the bridge. One hit and the creature could send her toppling into the darkness below. The creature placed a hand on the cage, and sent the pre-teen tumbling around inside it rattled the cage. Laughing at her pain, the eyeless horror began to turn, and stalk back from whence it came.

_Oh no you don't you big JERK! _

Mabel kicked and jumped like a maniac, causing the cage to plummet downwards, and slam into the top of the abominations head. The cage broke on impact, and Mabel came tumbling out with a smile. Her brief moment of happiness and freedom was interrupted however, when her captor turned to her and roared. The tween ran towards the doorway, the sound of her pursuer's stomps nearly deafening her.

On the other side of the door there was row of glass cylinders, all filled with a slimy green liquid which seemed to move through a maze of tubes, before being deposited into the adjacent cylinder. The room was so large, and poorly lit (only three ancient lightbulbs hanging overhead) that the brunette was unable to see where the machine ended.

_Maybe it doesn't._ Mabel was roused from her thoughts when she heard the rampaging beast roar again, and come charging into the room. Spotting a large puddle of leakage, a plan began to formulate inside the young girl's mind. The bruised sweater-wearer ducked to the left as the creature attempted to snatch her up, the breeze created by the clap of its claws raising the hair on the back of her neck. The beast slipped on a puddle leaked slime, and swiped at her as it skidded towards the cylinders. The human had to avoid several swings of the massive beast, but once she reached safety, she watched as the creature slammed into one of the containers, and was covered in the slimy contents.

Glass went everywhere, and Mabel raised her bare hands for protection, hissing in pain as a shard cut two of her knuckles. Crashing to the ground, the beast began to cough and kick, squirming around as it began to shrink before her eyes. The beast's slayer ran over to the diminishing form, careful not to slip on the puddle, now twice as big due the broken cylinder. By the time she had reached it however, the monster was the same size as when she had first encountered it. Kicking the defenseless foe in the ribs, she demanded that it return what it had stolen.

The creature shrieked, before its life sputtered out, and it began to fade out of existence. All that was left when the monster had fully left this reality, was the bracelet which it had devoured. Mabel picked up the memento, and slipped it onto the arm which hurt more, as if it would lessen the pain. For a brief moment, a smile flickered across her face, as the cherished memory returned to her.

_Dipper's waiting for me though, the real one, the one now. I can't let him down because I'm wrapped up in silly trinkets. _ Sighing, the determined tween turned towards the door way and had just begun to trot towards it, when she heard a cry coming from inside. Instantly identifying the sound as that of a human, Mabel rushed forward, pushing the door aside, and catching sight of her great uncle. He lay in the center of the room, his suit was covered in blood, slime and grime, and his face was twisted in pain, his eyes screwed shut. His niece dashed over to him, noticing the rose which lay at his side as she examined his wounds.

"Grunkle Stan…it's me, Mabel…please wake up. Stan, please, I need your help to find Dipper, I have a bus outside, we can all escape in it…you…you just need to wake up." The old man stirred and a relived smile swept over Mabel's face. Then she remembered the healing drink in her pocket, and removed it, forcing open her great uncles lips and trying to force the old man to accept the drink. "C'mon, this will…this will save you…please. Just drink it…" The old man's jaw went slack, and she dumped the last bit of the rejuvenating liquid into his mouth, watching it disappear down the throat of her fallen guardian. The gold light seeped over his skin, but only healed him slightly, causing the brunette to wish she had been aware of the power inside the bottle when she taken a drink form it. _I would have saved more. _Sighing she watched as Stan's breath began to even out, and she tried not to focus on how much dried blood had stained his suit. Then she heard a voice, emit from nowhere.

_"And the winner is…STAN PINES! Although, you 'know, he's gonna die just like his niece." _The door on the other side of the arena opened, and Mabel heard the sound of rusty wheels screeching across concrete. _"Nice job kiddo, your brother should be here any second now to see you get dragged away." _Mabel gulped and stood, speaking defiantly. "Listen to me…you…you VOICE! Me, and Stan, and Dipper…are leaving, and there's nothing you can do about it!" Laughter erupted from everywhere, and she glanced around as the invisible people acted as though her statement was the funniest thing they had ever heard. _"That's the thing isn't it? I can do whatever I want…get her boys." _

Mabel glanced back at the door in time to see two hulking creatures exit. Their arms were longer than their legs, and their arms ended in roller blades, just like their legs. Their faces were twisted and had dangling trunks like elephants, below their lack of eyes, covering where their mouths should have been. Her eyes widening, Mabel glanced around in search of a weapon, but found that the arena was bare of such necessities.

She wasn't given any time to pull her unconscious uncle to safety either, because the first creature raised an arm into the air, and the brunette realized that the roller blade which was fused onto the stump, was also a yo-yo, and released an incredibly large cord, which wrapped itself around the stunned tween, an held her arms straight to her side as the creatures began to pull her off in the direction of the door way. "No! No! STOP IT!" The desperate girl watched the second creature wrap two strands of wire around her uncle, and begin to pull him along behind her struggling form. _"Ah, right on time." _

**-+=^0^=+-**

Dipper had watched the world burn away in front of his eyes, and found himself in a world very similar to the one he had entered back at the hospital. After avoiding some more of the saw-creatures, he found a large stone door, which led to an arena, very similar to the one which he had already encountered. The first thing that he had noticed as soon as he entered the fighting circle, was his family members, on the other side of the stone circle in the center. He called out to them as strands of shadow wrapped themselves around a screaming Mabel and an unconscious Stan, into a large elevator. Dipper sprinted like a bullet, ready to face anything to free his loved ones.

_"Ah ah little buddy, were not-_**DONE YET!**_" _

Strands, just like the ones which were entangling Mabel and Stan, fell forth from the ceiling, and began wrapping themselves around his arms and legs. Mabel screamed his name, and Stan stirred slightly, but he only managed to call back to her, before the elevator doors slammed shut, and the old man and young girl were sent hurtling down the shaft.

"MABEL!" Dipper tried to yank the shadow of his bare arms, but found that it stung to touch them, and no matter how many he got rid of, there were always more. He screamed and tried to walk towards the dumbwaiter, but found that his feet could no longer touch the ground as he was lifted high into the air. _"Ha, ha, oh if you could see the look on your face…" _

The pre-teen screamed at the voice, and struggled like a fly trapped in a spider's web, only creating more laughter as the shadows dragged him into a nearby room, and threw him into a cell, shutting the door closed, and leaving the exhausted tween to fall into utter despair.

_**-=0=-**_

**_Next up should be the last. Sorry about the wait, I was moving so I didn't have as much time._**


	10. The End

**-=0=-**

Dipper brushed tears from his red eyes, and smeared the salty water against his shirt, now unshackled by the constraint of his rotting vest. His sorrow was beginning to sap and be replaced with unalterable rage. Visions of murder blinded him as his hatred for the universe grew with every passing second.

He didn't know who to blame for his predicament, so he blamed everyone and anything connected to his situation. It was his fault for abandoning his sister, it was Stan's fault for taking them here, and it was his parent's fault for sending them to Gravity Falls. It was the _fucking termites_ fault for choosing Stan's house. He wanted to break something, he wanted to tear something apart. He wanted to smash every radio in a twenty mile radius. He wanted to strangle something that had no throat. His blood boiled as half-nightmare half-fantasies, flashed before his eyes.

_Blood on his hands _**(death in his throat)**_, gore on his blade _**(Give 'em forty whacks)**_. Listen to that sweet, sweet sound _**(cries from his enemies)**_. Head cracking like an egg _**(watch it spill out)**_. Hit the eyes _**(always hit the eyes)**_. Bury god under the madness (under the madness). Burn the rules to ash _**(Time to play with matches)**_. Watch the smoke rise so high that it blocked out the sun _**(thousands petrified by the smoke)**_. _ Twisted, writhing, broken, hissing, he wanted retribution.

_"Do you have everything? Did you remember you're toothbrushes?" Dipper rolled his eyes, "Of course we did. Right Mabel?" He turned and saw that she was already on the bus, probably wanting to get a head start on "Back seat treasure hunt." _ _Sighing he turned back towards his parents, and received a crushing hug from his mother. Slightly embarrassed, he complained, and she placed him back on the ground, before smiling while teary eyed, and running back to the car to get some more tissues. _

_A confused Dipper turned to his father, "Why is she freaking out so much?" His father sighed and bent on one knee. "Well this is your first summer away from home. And she…she doesn't know Stan like I do, so she doesn't exactly trust him to take care of you guys." _ _Dipper raised an eyebrow, "But I mean, this is a really sleepy town. What's the worst that could happen?" His father chuckled and led him over to the bus doors. "Well…you two are getting older, and it's inevitable that you will get in trouble. And…well she'd never forgive herself if something happened to you two. Neither would I…" Dipper nodded, and was about to step onboard, when his father stopped him again. "You and I both know your sister she…has a tendency to get into some situations without thinking. She just…she trust people…maybe a bit too much. I want to know if I can count on you to, you'know, look out for her?" _

_Dipper frowned, "Of course…I'd never let anything happen to her." His dad smiled, "I know. Now…you better get a seat before the bus starts up." Dipper nodded and glanced back at his father one last time, before joining his sister at the back of the bus. _ Dipper awoke covered in sweat. His cell was mostly dark, just like all the others. But the flickering azure candle, which lay beside the bars, created eerie blue light and fashioned wickedly dancing flickers on the stone wall behind his bed. The dungeon's only other resident, was chained up, across from his cell. It resembled a man, but seem to have too few bones, and it continued to moan and gurgle, despite the giant stone triangle which sat atop its head.

Its arms and legs were held down by anchor sized chains, but it's hands were still free to grope the stale air. Although he knew that the creature wasn't human, Dipper still felt sorry for it, and hated the injustice of the creature's existence. _Produced only to be trapped, shaped from flesh for the purpose of suffering. _ Rolling off of the sagging mattress, he stumbled across the slimy stone over to the light, his bare feet tingling against the deathly cold concrete. Upon staring into it, his eyes watering as memories came flashing back to him.

He and Mabel embracing after the gnome incident, the two of them spending Summerween together by tricker-treating, and her saving him with her grappling hook. _She needs you. _He removed his cap, and stared down at the gift he had received from his great uncle. _They need you. _ Placing the baseball cap back on his head, his calculative mind scanned the cell for a way out. A pair of rusty shackles hung over his mattress, and Dipper leaped back onto his rotting cot, and began to tug at the chains, interrupting the twirling's of the fake shadows, and causing dust to fill the air with every yank. Finally the bonds broke, and Dipper toppled backwards, off the bed, groaning as his head struck the dirty floor, he landed beside his discarded vest. Rolling over, the young detective heard the chains bang against one another as he stood, and stepped over to the door formed of rusty bars, and brass pipes. He fed the manacles through the bars, and began to swing them from side to side. As he gained momentum, he also gained distance, and came closer and closer to his goal.

Finally, the other side of the chain clattered through the bars of the triangle prisoner's cell, skittering across the crackling stone, and brushing against the monster's locked ankles. The creature moaned, and Dipper smiled as it began to do as he had anticipated. It leaned forward, blood pooling in the front corner of the hollow pyramid, and splashing in front of the tortured beast as it blindly searched with restrained hands. The boy desperately wanted to help, for both their sakes. But the pig iron prevented him. Just when Dipper was about to yell at the prisoner in frustration, it grabbed the chain.

Dipper smiled and spoke to the creature, even though he doubted it could understand English. "GREAT! Good work, now…start pulling. When my door's open I'll get you out!" He wrapped his side of the entangled chains around the door knob, watching as the mutilated soul pulled at chain with its restricted yet considerable strength. Like a spectator, he cheered his newfound ally on as the door became weaker with every heave. When the door finally broke open, Dipper was paralyzed by the violent motion, and had to catch his breath, before stepping out of his cage. The creature groaned, and collapsed in exhaustion. _Don't do it, it's a trap, that thing will tear you apart. _He glanced down the hall way, his anxiety growing when he realized that his captors would be here soon.

_But it's in pain, no one deserves to be crushed like that. And besides, it saved me, and I'm a man of my word, not a liar like Bill. _Dipper took a deep breath, before running over to his savior's cell, jerking the door open. His bare shins were slightly burnt by the sparks created as the metal dragged across the grunge covered concrete. Stepping inside the filthy prison-cell, the young escapee began to wiggle a particularly weak chain off.

The creature moaned at the noise, and his hands became slick with sweat, as he tried to appease his collapsed friend by removing the loose screw as quickly as possible. Upon removing the fourth screw, he turned and rushed over to another corner. But the hurried pre-teen was never given a chance to remove another of the chains, because the semi-human tore the other chains out and used the steel bars for support, and pushed itself to its feet. Before tumbling face-first towards Dipper. The young investigator leaped to the side just in time to avoid having his stomach stabbed by the stone edge, and watched his crippled companion slam into the wall, and slide to the floor. Kneeling down, he could hear it attempting to speak, and without a moment's hesitation, he placed his hands beneath the sharp granite edge, and put all hi strength into removing the triangular helmet.

The creature moaned louder as gore dribbled between his finger, and Dipper almost dislocated a shoulder. Sensing his distress, the victim placed a hand (bloody from the creature breaking several bones when it tore its restraints off the walls) on the sharp front of the helmet, and raised it. Smiling at the help, Dipper heaved, and watched the stone torture device topple of the creature, and slam to the ground dully. He had expected to see a faceless humanoid. He stumbled back in surprise, upon seeing the face that lay beneath. The creature turned towards him, staring back with familiar dark brown eyes, before clearing its throat and beginning to speak. "W-wir sind…" It coughed up blood, and Dipper tried to comprehend this situation. N

ot only was it impossible for a human being's skull to survive that level of trauma, but he was unable to figure out how the prisoner could be wearing the same face that it was. "Wir sind nicht…" When he realized what his dying companion was trying to say, the twelve year doll became further lost in his savior's existence. With its last bit of strength, the creature raised a finger, and pointed towards the words inscribed above the metal bars. Glancing up, Dipper found himself somehow even more confused. **WIR SIND NICHT, WAS WIR SIND, WIR SIND NUR DAS, WAS WIR WAREN. **_What the hell does it mean? _The creature collapsed, and the object in its left hand skittered across the floor. Carefully stepping over the legs of the corpse, Dipper picked up the shard of glass, careful to avoid cutting his calloused hand. As he raised the piece into the air, he noticed the inscription on the side. A memory flashed before his eyes as he spotted the flowers engraved on the side of the glass. _It's a piece of Mabel's hand mirror. _

Glancing back at the owner, he returned his gaze to the mysterious shard, his eyes widened as he saw the reflection of the message etched into the wall behind him. WIR SIND NICHT, WAS WIR SIND, WIR SIND NUR DAS, WAS WIR WAREN became "WE ARE NOT WHAT WE ARE, WE ARE JUST WHAT WE WERE" in the jagged piece. Turning back to the older version of himself, Dipper swallowed with great effort. He didn't quite understand the how of the situation, but he knew what was required, and he had fairly good idea of what the clone represented. _No, I'm not going to become this. _He found it difficult to turn away from the mesmerizing cadaver, but never looked back after exiting the cell, and running towards the elevator.

**[^(0)^]**

He knew that they were in on the bottom floor. He didn't know why, but some primal force revealed the location of his loved ones and their captors. Maybe it was because everything ancient was underground.

Or perhaps it was because when man had been struck with visions of demons and spirits of dark power, they had lived and died dim lit caves. But it was most likely the fact that he feared the basement level most, and he knew that his tormentors would take any chance available to get inside his head. Nothing that he had seen thus far, was half as dusty as the elevator buttons. There was so much in fact, that after taking the majority off via pressing the 0, he smeared the dust off on his shirt and noticed the small glow created by the button. And since the transport lacked a light, he carefully brushed the grime off the five other buttons, and found himself slightly illuminated in the dark box, as it rattled downwards. Occasionally the elevator would slow nearly to a halt, before jolting back into its regular bullet speed.

This was jarring to say the least, and Dipper found himself nearly unable to formulate any coherent thoughts during the ride. This didn't give him any time to consider what had happened with his doppelganger, or (thankfully) worry about what was happening to Mabel and Stan right now. Thus, he had only begun to imagine what he might encounter on the final stage of his hellish journey, so when the doors opened and revealed a dark expanse, he found himself hesitant to exit. He had no choice however, since button to go up was destroyed, and he knew that there was nothing waiting for him on the other floors. The intentions of his invisible tormentors had become very clear to him as he descended. They wanted a story, they wanted him to face his demons, and they wanted to see how far they could push him. But he was by no means important, he was just another toy in their game.

Like a cigarette, they intended to suck everything good out of him, and toss him away once he became empty and useless to their eternal pursuit of the same hideous pleasure. It was clear that they would continue to do this type of thing, pretty much forever, terrorizing the lost souls of humanity, in an endless bout of production line masturbation. _Cut and paste, cut and paste. _Before this trip, he might have felt the need to stop this, to try and better humanity by preventing them from ever replicating their short-sighted goals. But now, he just wanted to escape, he wanted to leave with his loved ones, and never look back. He had also accepted that he was far too small to ever effect something as insidious as THEM. So he entered the darkness, one goal in mind. _Find Mabel and Stan, and get the hell out of here. _

**-[^(0)^]-**

Floor 0 was filled with stone archways and damp tunnels, which crisscrossed in labyrinthine patterns, and were filled with monitors. The screens all depicted clips of him walking through a hall, some showed places he had already visited, whereas others almost seemed to predict his future movements. Occasionally a monitor would flash, and for a decisecond, Dipper would catch rare glimpses of random and disturbing occurrences. A clown staring silently, a dog back viscously as someone off screen laughed mockingly, and an old lady in a rocking chair with a dead rabbit in her lap, and beady eyes like slivers of the void. With no weapons, he had to press himself up against the slimy wall and hold his breath every time a monster passed by. All the while his dreaded foe, the sadist on the radio, continued to speak. The man would order his pets to continue their search, instructing them to _"TRY, TRY, AGAIN!" _or _"If you want to catch a human being, you have to think like a human being. So you guys better start getting stupider real fast!"_

Dipper had decided that the man knew exactly where he was and knew that he found his menial instructions annoying, or, he just liked hearing himself talk. When it felt like he had been doing this for hours _("Rinse wash and repeat until your pale red runs raw."_ remained one of The Radio Man's favorite phrases judging by how often he repeated it), Dipper found an ancient rusty door, and heaved to open it. Grating across the stone floor, sparks flew as he dragged the door open, and was nearly blinded by the thick white light of the inside.

The room sequestered behind the oxidized metal was a hospital room, and the walls, ceiling, and floor were all made up of harsh florescent lights. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Dipper was stunned to find that the room had a resident. "STAN!" The old man raised his head at the call of his name, and the surprised tween dashed forward, leaping onto the bed and hugging the injured elder despite his mournful condition and cloying complexion. "I was so worried that something had happened to you…" The retired boxer raised a bandaged hand gradually, and managed to rub Dipper's back as the pre-teen voiced his fears and found his eyes beginning to wet. This was half for his love and newfound appreciation of the man, and half because he'd been alone for three days, and he had a sea of emotions threatening to brake the dam and overflow. Pulling away the young detective locked eyes with the senior, and found his voice threatening to crack.

"Stan…where-where's Mabel?" The old man gave a nauseating cough, and gestured in the direction of the wood door which stood to the right of his bed. Dipper glanced at it, but had finally realized that his great uncle was not tied down to the bed, but rather too weak to stand. "Stan are you… are you okay?" The fallen warrior nodded, but coughed again, before managing to croak out a reply when he could see that Dipper was about to ask if he could speak. "I'm for now fine kiddo…I just need to get to a hospital…a real one." Nodding, the young detective glanced back at the door before slipping off the bed. "Don't worry, once I get Mabel, Their game will be over and we'll be able to escape." Stan reached towards him, and gave a raspy request. "Dipper…wait…" His hand on the door knob, Dipper turned back to his guardian, and saw heartbreaking remorse in his great-uncle's dusty eyes. "I…I'm sorry for bringing you two here…none of this…I never meant to-" Seeing his great uncle wince with nearly every syllable caused Dipper to shush him and try to put his fears to rest. "Stan it's okay, I don't blame you and neither will Mabel. You just get some-"

"I'm a liar Dipper."

Spinning back to face his uncle, the investigator frowned questioningly. The old man sagged visibly, and began his confession. "I said that I didn't have any bombshell secrets. I was lying…I…I have a huge machine in a secret room under the Shack, one which McGucket designed, it…I was using it to get my brother back…he's stuck in another dimension, and I spent the last thirty years searching the world for all the parts required for me to reactivate the machine. I uh, I have about fifty different aliases across the world, with a bunch of fake IDs and passports. Also…my brother…your grandfather…is the author of the journal." The old man opened his eyes and was surprised to find that Dipper wasn't particularly shocked or angry about the revelation. He merely rubbed his eyes, and turned his attention to the floor. "Th-" Sighing, he scratched his head and returned his gaze the old man. "I lied too…when I said I wouldn't go looking for trouble. We-" _Trust no one. _

His throat tightened and he turned back to the door, unwilling to show his tears. "We will talk about this once we're far, far away from here, and Mabel is safe." He glanced back at his regretful uncle, his anger diminishing slightly when he saw how ashamed the con man was of his lies. Then his hand closed around the door knob, and twisted and pushed, watching the door swing open, and reveal a dimly lit and fairly familiar bedroom. A set of dusty twin beds sat side to side, with a two dressers towering beside the room's one window. Dipper didn't know the logistics of an underground window creating light, but at this point he had given up on fitting the laws of physics into this town. Detris floated through the impossible beam of light, and after glancing at the discarded clothes which covered half the floor, Dipper realized where he was. _This is me and Mabel's room, back in Piedmont. _He didn't know why he hadn't recognized it earlier, but blamed it on his lack of sleep, and being caught off guard. Whimpering came from a huddled form in the corner, and it immediately drew his attention.

There, squeezed between the right hand dresser and the peeling wallpaper, sat his sister. Her face lay against her skirt as she wept in defeat, revealing nothing but her now raggedy brown locks, and besweatered shoulders, which rose and fell with every shudder. Relieved to see his twin alive, regardless of her bloodstained sweater and sobs, he closed the door and ran between the beds, closing his arms around his sister as soon as he reached her. "Mabel…it's okay. I'm right here, Stan' fine, and you're going to be fine." Despite his comforting words, she still refused to lift her face. However her shuddering died down, and Dipper put on her hands in his. "Don't worry…it's gonna be fi-" Her hand tightened around his, and he felt claws dig into his skin. The creature that was most certainly NOT his sister gave a cruel snicker, before raising its head and running a disgustingly long tongue against his cheek. He screamed, not just because the sweater wearing fiend had a giant sideways mouth where its face should have resided, but out of pain. He leapt backwards, and crashed onto the right hand bed as the acidic saliva burnt into his cheek. "Mabel" giggled again, and leaped into the air, tackling him on the bed, and digging its claws into his loose skin as he tried to prevent it from taking a chunk out of his frontal lobe.

It's eloquently sharpened fangs wiggled in the air, as the creature opened and closed its maw rapidly, causing little splashes of burning spit to land on his face. His right eye half blinded because of the blood which pooled their, Dipper kicked the creature in the stomach, and rolled off the bed as the stunned beast removed its claws from his bleeding shoulders. The injured investigator pulled himself under the left bed just in time to watch the sister-resembling monster slam onto the ground where he had lay seconds before. _Oh god, that thing is so quick, and strong. _He groaned in pain as his shoulder touched the underside of the mattress. He pulled himself further back as the abomination reached towards him, and hissed in pain as his tender wound scraped the bed frame once more. _I don't have any weapons, and that thing doesn't look ready to give up on killing me and eating my bones anytime soon. _The creature ran around the bed, and began trying to drag him out from that side. Dipper slipped out on his right side, and stood, bolting towards the door as the creature charged forwards. The giant mouthed creature slammed into the wall above the right bed, and bounced off the bed, tearing at the rotting poster which fallen with her as Dipper desperately fought with the knob.

Covered in the shreds of the Sev'ral Timez poster, the monster giggled at his fruitless attempts to open the locked door, and leapt forwards yet again.

The half blind detective jumped to the floor, and watched the maniac slam into the oak door, and fall to the ground in a hissing heap. The creature regained its composure as Dipper ran towards the window, and continued its pattern of leaping into an attack. However, it seemed that the creature had learned from its mistakes, because instead of going right at him and crashing through the window as expected, it landed on the bed, and closed a clawed hand around his neck. Gasping for breath, he battled its iron grip as she giggled and raised the kicking boy into the air. His struggles were cut short when he was thrown across the room, and slammed into one of the dressers. The room span as he raised his head, and watched the monster resembling his sister gallop towards him. He kicked at it, and missed the first time, but struck the shoulder on his second attempt. He scooted backwards across the floor as his horrifyingly relentless foe continued her assault, and managed to stun her with a kick to the face.

The creature screeched in pain and grabbed his ankle, digging her claws into his skin as blatant revenge before tugging the panicking investigator towards her gaping maw. Dipper screamed and continued to squirm around on the bloodstained carpet as her kicked her in the neck. She giggled at his fruitless escape attempts, and bit down on his ankle, her fangs stabbing into his very being and extracting his blood in a brutally mechanical fashion.

_Oh god, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die. No matter how much I fight, she just gets stronger. _Grabbing the covers off the right hand bed, he pulled blanket over his opponent, and kicked her in the head as he continued to crawl backwards. His back touched the wall, and his eyeless adversary snickered mockingly, before standing and strolling over to him, almost casually. _This doesn't even make any sense, I don't have any resentment for Mabel. Sometimes I wish I was as sociable and carefree as she was, but if there's one person I can trust than it's-_ Inspiration struck like a thunder bolt, and Dipper staggered to his feet. The monster pressed a hand on either side of his head, and the injured pre-teen tried not to scream when she ran an acid coated tongue across the left side of his face. His eyes filled with tears, and his last action before falling unconscious, was to wrap his arms around his attacker, managing to almost be tender. Then she closed her fangs around the side of his neck, and sucked out of a main artery as everything went black.

**{-[^(0)^]-}**

When Dipper awoke, he was lying in the left side bunk, and the injuries which he had sustained in his battle with the imperfect doppelgänger of his twin were all gone. _Did I…did I die? _Glancing around the room, Dipper saw that all the damage caused by his fight with the beast was gone. The carpet was free of bloodstains, the dent he had made in the dresser was gone, the decaying Sev'ral Timez poster was still pinned to the wall, and the covers were neatly folded and covered in a small sheet of dust as if never disturbed.

There were only two things different about the room, one was that the window no longer existed, and the room was now lit by the second difference, the eerie green light which streamed out of the mirror. Rolling out of bed, he paced over to the mirror, finding himself slightly paranoid as he expected something else to leap out at him the moment he let his guard down. But no monsters had yet to reveal themselves when he reached the green light, and spotted the object which lay in front of it, like a sacrificial tribute. He picked up the bracelet, and found himself tortured by the familiarity of the object.

Turning it in the dim lighting, Dipper recognized the little figures carved into it, and found his heart drop sickeningly. _The bracelet that I gave to Mabel on our seventh birthday._ His hand closed around the piece of handcrafted jewelry as he turned his attention to the possessed mirror. Reaching out, his hand brushed the cold reflective surface, and he was hardly surprised when his hand half melted into the mirror, and disappeared into the dimension on the other side. Acting like the symbol of his love for his sister was a good luck charm, Dipper squeezed the bracelet in his pocket and stepped into the mirror. When his eyes re-opened, he found himself standing in a world of green glass.

Light emanated from everywhere and nowhere at once, and Dipper was disturbed by the army of reflections which followed his every move. Some were bearing razor sharp teeth, other's seemed to have a third eye on the forehead, and some were covered in gore from self-mutilation. While they followed his movements, but their gazes stayed focused on the back of his head as he tried to focus on the hall ahead. A voice which Dipper wished with all his strength _wasn't _familiar by now, filled the massive hall, and echoed throughout the thousands of alternative glass halls.

_"I must say kiddo, I'm impressed." _At the end of the hall stood a glass door three stories tall, its glass to thick and smudged with plasma to reveal the room beyond or add another replication of the hall to the cacophony of imitation. _"You humans…you rarely take the time, and accept your licks. You never think _**OUTSIDE THE BOX! **_Instead, you fight, and fight, and fight, until the last man drops and the blood runs in carnal rivers that dislodge trees like mudslides." _The man on the radio adopted a mockery of the old fashioned news broadcaster.

_"CAUSE IT'S THEM OR US BOYS, IT'S THEM OR US! AND YOU'RE EITHER WITH US OR AGAINST US!" _He laughed heartily as Dipper approached the great glass door. _"We gotta DIE so that our children can live long enough to DIE themselves! Do ya' hear me boys?! WE GOTTA GET OUT THERE AND KILL **THE ENEMY! BE THEY RED, BLACK, YELLA, BLONDE HAIRED ARYANS, OR "TERRORISTS" THEY GOTTA BURN IN HELL BOYS, AND WE'RE GONNA SEND THEM THERE!**" _His laughter echoed like the mirrors, and nearly deafened the tiny intruder. Dipper reached the door, and pressed a hand against the icy glass as he wondered how the hell he was going to reach the door handles. _"Ah…oh god I'm sorry I just *giggle* sometimes I can't control how humorous humanity is." _Tensing, Dipper jumped with the greatest force he could muster and still found it impossible to reach even one of the door handles. _Even if I did latch onto one, what then? It's not like I could pull it open. _He sighed and slumped against the door, "Listen…you had your fun…we'll be scarred for the rest of our lives…" He turned towards the direction from which the voice was coming. "Now please…_let me take my sister, and go_."

The voice laughed harder at this. _"See the thing is kid, the game we're playing, it ain't one of the stupid games Red and her herd of faggots play on their COMMUNICATION DEVICES, where you win the game and everything is all fine and dandy. This…this game is more like chess, and I'm quite sure…from my telepathic abilities…that you know quite a lot about chess Dippy. Would I be correct in that assumption?" _With his legs aching from use, Dipper sat down in front of the door and stared at his darkened duplicates. "Yes, I know a lot about chess." He could practically hear the smile in his opponent's voice, _"Then you know that you can't win a chess game without losing at least one piece." _Dipper was about to interject since he knew that it was actually possible to win a chess game without losing a piece, but thought better of it. _"So, you can leave…but you can only take Stan with you." _Dipper's eyes grew wide and he stood up, releasing his rage upon the unseen force. "NO! I am not going to let you keep Mabel here, besides, Stan has lived five times as long as her…surely he is more valuable in the long run!" He hated the idea of selling his great uncle, but he knew that Stan would be ready to sacrifice himself if need be to prevent Mabel from being trapped in here for the rest of her long life. It helped slightly that the old man had revealed to be incredibly distrust worthy. _"Yeah, he has WAY more demons, that we could do SOOO much with…but he's already done. He won, he overcame his problems, and we're not interested anymore." _

Dipper pleaded, despite knowing that he was trying to reason with a force which defied reason or logic. "But she's twelve, you can't be seriously expecting her to overcome her problems all alone!" That got a chuckle out of the sadist, _"Yeah well…you humans used to shove twelve year old in factories, make 'em work 'till their little hearts burst, or they ran out of fingers! Why feed the little brats either? Ol' Le-o-pold the second of Belgium thought nothin' of makin' a bunca African kids work the rubber farms 'til they died of starvation. Besides, it's your great uncle's fault for bringing her here, that's like flaunting a piece of juicy meat in front of tiger kid, someone's gonna lose a hand, and that tiger is going to get his meat one way or another." _He was about to retort, but that final comment set off an idea in the desperate investigator's head. _"So kid…it's about time you should be getting back." _Two huge creatures stepped out of the glass on either side of the doors, and Dipper felt the ground tremble with every thunderous step that they took.

One had a spade-shaped head, and the other had a slender diamond shaped head. They both wore no clothes, and lacked sexual organs of any kind, clearly being crafted sheerly for guarding the immense door. Each roughly the half the size of the thick glass doors, the spade-head held a car sized morning-star, from which gore dripped and splattered across the green glass. Its counter-part held a trident and seemed to shriek disturbingly, as opposed to the ominous moaning of its fellow guard. Dipper stumbled backwards, tripping over a jagged piece of glass, and tumbling to the ground as his ankle bled out. _"WHOOPS! Watch your step kid, heh-heh…you got five seconds to skedaddle outta here on your little spaghetti legs, before Goofus and Gallant here step on ya'." _Licking his lips, Dipper's mind ran at a mile a minute as he attempted to find a way to defeat his gargantuan foes, or at the very least, find a way around him. Feeling the ground beneath rumble with every threatening step, the panicking tween stumbled to his feet, and charged towards the titans like a madman. _"Well I have to admire your inventiveness in suicidal methods." _

Dipper wasn't paying attention to his mocker, he had blocked out the sounds of his enemies, and was completely focused on running towards his glowering reflection. Diamond-head stabbed its trident down in front of him, but Dipper slipped between the prongs and faltered, before regaining his footing and resuming his death charge as the beasts tried to squish him underfoot. The spade-head swung the ball and chain downwards, and Dipper ducked to the side, and was nearly knocked over by the gust of wind created as the spiked ball burrowed into glass gate.

Falling backwards, Dipper covered his face as shards of glass flew out in all directions, and leapt back to his feet, running towards the hole which his opponent had accidentally created. The morning-star had swung back towards him, and the young investigator felt the glass begin to shatter around him as he burrowed down through the tunnel. The shards slashed his back, his shoulders, and the top of his head, as he slid out of the tunnel and rolled across the cold floor. _"WELL DONE! EVERYONE GIVE HIM A ROUND OF APPLAUSE!" _The claps were nearly deafening, but Dipper could barely hear them over the ringing in his head. Raising his head, he heard an unfamiliar tune exit the tunnel up ahead, and confuse him further. _*Two birds on a wi-i-ire…* _Blocking out the clapping, and the light-hearted tune, he forced himself up, and tried to focus on the pain, using it as an incentive to keep moving. As if instead of making it more difficult to move, the pain was a fuel to the fire that raged within his bloody form.

There were five insanely large steps between him and the tunnel and he was forced to climb up the second on all-fours after losing support in his back. He pulled himself onto the third step, and had to stop in order to catch his breath.

The tune grew louder, and Dipper glanced around when he began to hear tiny whispers filling the room. _*O-o-one tries to fl-fly away…and the other…* _ He noticed that there was something wrong with the song, that the syllables were brought out lounger than they should be, and that the tune seemed sadder despite its face paced nature.

But those observations were forgotten as the whispers grew in and number. _*Watches her close from that wi-i-ire,* _He could almost discern the words out of the whispers, as he pulled himself onto the fourth step. _*He says that she wa-wants to as well…but she is a liar…* _Reaching the fifth step, he raised his gaze and found himself staring at someone's boots. They were small, and dusty, with dark red splatters across them, as if the wearer had been doing some brutally rough kicking. The owner was wearing black pants, and as Dipper raised his head the whispers became practically audible, and his eyes widened in an ungodly fashion as terror struck him. There, standing before him, were six creatures, all dressed like he had once been, all his exact size. They were each highly disturbing in their own way, the closest one had a giant red eye above a nasty looking mouth, and was dressed like a preacher. He made out its whisper right before a boot made contact with his cheek. **_"You're so easily controlled it's laughable."_**

Rolling across the smooth glass, Dipper felt a deep pounding in his head, and raised his head to watch the army of duplicates descending upon him. The one with a dozen screaming heads flailed at him, but he avoided its grasp, only to be tackled by a wolf headed beast. The creature stabbed his claws into the young boy's chest, speaking in a deep and resentful tone. **"YOU LET PEOPLE HUMILATE YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO MUCH OF A LITTLE BITCH TO STAND UP FOR YOURSELF, YOU SHIT!" **Clutching his bloody chest, he leased a fist, but the bare chested attacker leapt to the side and kicked him in the shin. **"IT'S NO WONDER, ALL YOU CAN EVER SEEM TO ACCOMPLISH IS TO HUMILATE YOURSELF!" **Dipper stumbled backwards, and hopped onto the fourth step as the wolf-boy jumped towards him again, snarling like a wild animal. "That's not true!" he practically screamed at the clone, finding his voice faltering to that same awful squeak. His counterparts remained calm and collected as they repeated their messages in his voice. An arm that looked like the leg of a dying horse, wrapped around his neck and forced oxygen from his lungs. _Sure it is,_

_You humiliated yourself _

_To save a bunch of idiotic teens,_

_Who wouldn't even listen to your warnings._

_Shoulda left 'em to die._

_Your never gonna be happy,_

_Never gonna be treated like an adult,_

_Because…_ _You let people, walk all o-over you... _ This one spoke in a sing song voice, acting innocent as it strangled him. He half-turned to see his newest attacker had the face of a skeletal sheep, and looked skinny enough to blow away in the wind, despite its iron grip. Elbowing the beast in the stomach, Dipper staggered away like a drunkard and heaved for breath violently.

The ten-headed flailing creature charged him, gibbering its insult. _"Wh-when everything (everything) [Everything] was perfect (perfect) [she looked so perfect], you couldn't work up the nerve {tear out his central cortex} (what a yellow bellied chicken) to f-fucking dance w-w-with the girl (and because your subconscious hates you, you fucking choose the most unavailable girl in Shitville) y-y-you [you idiot] you adore." _ Avoiding the sea of grasping hands, Dipper was pushed to the ground by his newest foe. This one had his face extending from its stomach, screaming and clawing at the flesh but remaining unheard. The face of the body was void of eyes or a nose, but had extremely familiar long brown hair, and a slimy tongue which dangled between spiked fangs.

"You can't make yourself happy, so you rely on your sister to give you a hand job whenever you're too fucking immaculate to deal with your own shit like a man!" She kicked him in the stomach, and his gasps slowed when the creature dressed like a preacher placed a boot on his neck and pressed down, glaring at him with a dark red eye filled with smugness. **_"And because she deals with your shit for you, you repay her by bending over the fucking stump whenever she snaps her fingers." _**Dipper pushed the leg off, and gave a hacking cough as he tried to force oxygen into his lungs. A deathly cold hand closed around his ankle and he turned his attention to see a frozen version of him covering his exposed ankle with frost bite ridden skin. _"YYYou can't FFFucking communicate, so you Ssspend all of your Tttime reading a fffucking book, even when yyyou know it'll kkkill you."_ Screaming in pain, he kicked at the purple and blue flesh as his enemies surrounded him. Their shadows crossed him and their feet slammed into him, pelting him with kicks sharp enough to crack ribs. "P-p-please…" They laughed at his begging and a whole new round of mocking struck him like javelins.

**_"Oh boo hoo, where's the tough guy now? Where's the triumphant hero?"_**

**"THAT'S RIGHT, CRY YOU MISFORMED WHELP. KEEP CRYING AND WE MIGHT LET YOU KEEP YOUR JAW, JUST SO THAT YOU CAN SUCK OUR DICKS!"** _"What happened to being an adult?_

_All I see is a crybaby faggot."_

_"If (if only) Red could see you now. She be [utterly] completely disgusted by your cowardice {You yellow bellied coward, too afraid to be happy}, leaving your sister to suffer (suffer), you deserve this death you weak bastard."_

"If your parent's could see you now, they would be ashamed. They would apologize with us for having to even deal with you, and then they would disown you. After all, their daughter is gonna live in hell cause your too idiotic to get to your feet and fight like a man."

_"IIIf that's the bbbest you can do, thththen you mmmight as wwwell take your own uuuseless excuse for a lllife."_

His body lying crumpled before them, Dipper's clothes were stained with blood and tears. Almost every exposed part of his body, was either bruised, cut, or both. Though it hurt to do so, he curled into a ball, his tender hands pressed against his chest, his legs scrunched forward to protect his buttocks. With every kick they provided a new taunt, telling him about the things they were going to do to him, the things they would do to Stan, the things they were going to do to Wendy when they lured her into their "fair" town. But as they pelted him, as they attacked, rage grew within his miniscule form, and he found himself shaking with ire.

**_"By the time we're done with Mabel, she'll be a rabid animal. The only way she'll remember your name, is as the sick fuck who left her to die…she's gonna make a great slave, once we teach her how to kill people." _**Dipper screeched like an owl, and slamming into the leader of the six, and pounding his fists against its blood red eye until his fists were soaked in plasma. Turning around, he kicked the faceless Mabel in the stomach, feeling the tiny bones of the trapped duplicate crush beneath his foot. The winded creature stumbled back and Dipper turned to the rest of his foes with fire in his eyes. "THE ONLY QUALMS I HAVE ABOUT KILLING YOU ALL IS THAT I'LL BE GUILTY IF I DON'T KILL SOME SOON ENOUGH!" They hissed, growled, and bleated in response, before collectively charging forward. He stumbled down the steps, leading the monsters like a shepherd leads sheep. Grabbing a shard off the ground, he swung around at the last moment and plunged his weapon into the ten-headed beast.

Blood spurted forth from its jugular, spraying red across his form, silhouetted in the unnatural green light. Pivoting away from the corpse, he slashed the spike of emerald glass across the throat of the sheep-beast, and watched the blood spill across its caked and dirty wool. Shoving the beast into his frozen doppelganger, and the wolf-man slammed into him, roaring like a storm, and slashing its claws across his cheeks. The pain, not just from the new cuts, but from the pain of the having the brute atop his chest, caused tears to spill forth and gave him a blurred view of the monstrosity. Its teeth and claws were covered in gore, and its breath was as rancid as roadkill on a burning Sunday afternoon.

**"I'M GONNA TEAR YOU APART…YOUR GONNA BE NOTHING SPLATTERS BY THE TIME I'M DONE WITH YOU!" **Forcing the spike up blindly, Dipper continued to stab until the thrashing of his attacker had come to a complete stop. Brushing the tears from his eyes, Dipper heaved until the hot corpse was off his left leg, and then scrambled out from under the fiend. A hand closed around his ankle and he began kicking the frost ridden monster, kicking until his clone's head had begun to crack beneath his kicks, and then tumbled into pieces of ice and freeze dried flesh. Stumbling backwards, Dipper tripped over the faceless Mabel, and had to hold her head away from his, embedding the shard in her chest as she tried to bite his tender jugular. Shoving the corpse off, he lay on the glass floor and stared at the reflections of him and his fallen opponents. Every joint hurt and wanted nothing more than to sit down for ten minutes and rub ointment across his countless cuts, enjoying nothing but sweet respite. But his sister was waiting for him.

**-{-[^(0)^]-}-**

_*Two birds of a fe-e-eather…* _ "No, no, no, no." Her eyes were screwed tightly shut so as not to see the screen of blinding colors that stood not five feet from her chair, Mabel kept muttering that same denial over and over again, unable to face the song, the screen, or the whispers. Upon awaking in strapped down to the iron chair, she had been transfixed by the screen in front of her, which throwed an endless stream of infinite color combinations into her mind. It had taken two hours to escape the mesmerizing rainbow and close her eyes, but by then the damage had been done. During the process she had been struck by awful visions of blatantly horrifying gore. All other visions were of scenes revealing her great uncle's lies. How he had betrayed her and Dipper, how he had continued to threaten the lives of the townsfolk (not to mention theirs) with his hazardous machine. She had felt rage build inside of her as she watched the revelation, knowing that this was the truth not just deep within, but also because it explained so much. But as the vision changed, the fury seemed to seep into the vile images which came immediately afterward. And soon she became skin-crawling ashamed as she found her ferocity transformed into a licentious pleasure as she watched the horrendous acts displayed on the massive screen.

When she had finally broken free of the insane cycle, Mabel had still been forced to deal with a dreadful migraine. Not to mention the whispers, which not only caused her head to throb harder, but also began forcing tears out of her. The song that was playing relived the pain in her head, but listening to it made her cry harder and she was unable to brush away the tears without blinking, which was a death sentence. Not only that; but the reality of the situation was if Mabel listened to the music she was trading one hellish existence for another. Because listening to this song, which would have been beautiful under different circumstances, caused her heart to ache horribly, and for the whispers to start making some twisted form of truth. _*Say that there always gonna stick together…*_ "No, no, no, no…" She wanted to clasp her hands over her ears, and never remove them.

But no matter what, she knew that the whispers, and the song would remain. Because there was no one else in her cell, and there certainly was a radio to project the song. It was all in her head, her conscious was perpetuating her own misery. She hadn't thought the situation could possibly be worse, until she had come to this conclusion. _"Yesss…C'mon little girl…stop fighting, end the war, end your **suffering**…eventually you'll break. You know it, I know it, and THEY knew it. That's why they left you, _your weak._"_ Mabel shook her head, preferring to listen to the constant loop of a song then the conniving whispers. "No! They didn't leave me! YOU TOOK ME AWAY! There going to come and rescue me! _THEY DIDN'T LEAVE!" _She bit her lip upon realizing how pathetic she sounded, how clear it was that her grave denial was fired against her own doubt's, rather than the words of her tormentor. _"Mabel, there's no need to scream. I understand you…I understand your emotion, and though it may not seem like it from my actions…I really want to help you more than anything else." _

_Liar. He's a liar…just like Gideon, Bill, Stan and Dipper. _She blinked when her brother's name popped up on the list of fibber's, and had to screw her eyes shut as hastily as she had opened them. _How was he a liar? _She shook herself, realizing that the Radio Man's lies were beginning to take their toll on her subconscious. _Why would he be a liar? He never promised to save me. _The man started up again, and she could hear the smile in his voice. _"Face it kiddo, they abandoned you. Your best bet right now is to trust in your one companion and _**(Have a good relationship with your God) **_surrender to the madness." _She shook her head as the dull ache increased in pain, and she felt insidious doubt slip inside her mind and poison the well of reason. "No! They…they would never abandon me!" _Well Stan might. _"Dipper he…he would never leave me behind, he…he loves-" She was going to say that he loved her, but she knew that people who loved each other did awful things to one another. She knew that siblings who said they loved one another sometimes never spoke after collage, or even after high school. She knew that when a child promises you that he'll always be your friend on your seventh birthday, he isn't predicting the future. He isn't able to see your whole future like some haggish palm-reader and say, "Mabel, you and me will always stick together. Life is going to be nothing but a real treat!" "But he…he would never abandon me to this…" she didn't know what to call this place, but she knew that it was too awful and bizarre for her brother just up and _leave her there. _Her tormentor's extended farther on this train of thought, and Mabel could feel her resolve and faith, breaking and allowing a flood of despair inside.

_"Of course he would, after all, most adults would have shit their pants and gone running a long time ago. Sure Dippy is pretty brave, but he ain't the pinnacle of moral fiber. Face it, he just values his own life more than yours. And why shouldn't he? That's how you humans are built. Besides, he doesn't have time for you, he just needs Stan to drive him back, and then he's got codes to crack, books to read, mysteries to solve."_ _*But one is never going to let go of that wi-i-ire, _ _She says that she will…but she is a liar.* _ Tears burned into her cheeks and she protested in a meek voice, her throat was sore from such objections and from her cries. "No he, he cares more about me than…I mean…he wouldn't be able to explain to our parents what happened to me." She felt like a mouse trying to defend herself against a calculating tiger, who forced her to his level, to think in his icy logic. _"Oh please! Has your brother ever shown to be particularly good at fore-sight? NO! He made a deal with a demon for Christ's sake! Besides…would they really care?" _She regained some of her fire, but it was quickly doused. "OF COURSE THEY-" _"That's why they sent you to Hicksville with the black sheep of the family?" _She gulped, and felt her world begin to spin. _"Why they are probably living it up right now, vacationing, partying, able to have sex when they want AS LOUD as they want?" _She shook her head, but the images barged in, and she cringed. _"Your parents will probably decide to make Dipper's (And yours, they won't even know about your absence) life in Grav-vit-ty Falls permanent, and they'll pay your great uncle top dollar to help keep their little brats up north. And will Dippy mind? Of course not, he's living a life he could only dream of back in Piedmont. Face it Girly, no one really likes you, and therefore, no one will care when you're gone." _

She continued her futile argument, but the man had answers to everything. _"Wendy won't have a problem, now that there's only one annoying child bothering her. Her resentment for you grew considerably after you paired up her ex with her best friend, it was around then that she remembered you were just a little kid. Just a big baby really. Soos will miss you, but he'll get over it, and he'll make for some fine muscle for Dipper's less than legal future dealing with dangerous items and substances. Candy and Grenda will also miss you, but not for long. After all, now that you're out of the picture, they'll be able to make some real friends. You were just the trial run. As I said before, no one really likes you, and therefore, no one will give a crap when you're gone." _Shook her head, but the tears betrayed her. _"By being here, by facing his demons, for you, Dipper realized that the one thing that was holding him down…was you. And in your absence, they'll realize that they never really needed you-" _"NO…NO…NONONO!"

_*Two birds…* _ _"-and that really, you were nothing more than a selfish whore with a little imagination. Soon you won't even be that." _She caved and shook against the frame of the iron chair, struggling to wipe her tears against her upper arms. Her braces scrapped against one another as she sobbed, and the man continued to say more horribly true words, causing her to open her eyes. She would rather be consumed by the revolting madness, then listen to the stinging words any longer. But when she opened her eyes she found someone staring back at her, a man with skin like ash, and dozens of oozing red eyes focused on her. He had just finished untying her and she screamed, falling backward and slamming against the floor. He raised two coal black hands and tried to step over to her, his voice coming out in an insane babble as she shrunk away from him. "L-leave me alone…LEAVE ME ALONE!" she threw a piece of rubble at him and he ducked to the side, the two snowy eyes on his face looked almost hurt, but his blood red eyes continued to roll in their socket's sickeningly. **_"PDEHO! Lw'v ph, sohdvh fdop grzq...Vwdq lv ilqh dqg zh'uh doo jrlqj wr jhw rxw ri khuh, vr sohdvh, sohdvh fdop grzq?" _**

Her back touched the wall, and she covered her red eyes with her arms, becoming a shuddering, quivering mass. _"Why won't you leave me alone?"_ A hand was placed on her back, and she felt arms wrap themselves around her, becoming shields against the world that ushered in new warmth and comfort. **_"Grq'w zruub, lw'v doo ryhu dqg brxu qhyhu jrqqd kdyh wr wklqn derxw lw djdlq._** I'm not going anywhere, no matter what some stupid voice says." Opening her eyes, Mabel found her brother staring back at her, her brother, covered in black bruises and oozing cuts. Despite the pain, his smile was genuine, and he ran a hand along her face. "God it's been too long since I've seen you."

Growing smile of relief from madness, she pulled him into a hug, sobbing into his shoulder. "Oh Dipper, I'm so, so, sorry…I promise that I'll never-" he removed her head from his shoulder and brushed away her tears, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Mabel. You could never do something to deserve this. And you did nothing wrong. We got separated because I was frustrated, but it was just as much my fault as it was Stan's, and our parents. It doesn't matter who was responsible, what matters is that we faced it and survived, and that it is over." She nodded tenderly and looked him up and down. "Dipper you *Sniffle* you can't go walking back outside like this." He tried to protest, but she picked up her twin, struggling with his weight for a moment, but using the same muscles which had allowed her to carry around a thirty pound hog to carry her scrawny brother. It took a moment, but then she figured out that pig-back riding was easier for her and less humiliating for him. She laughed when her twin was self-conscious about _bleeding _on her, and insisted that he climb on. The twins were relieved when they exited the room and found that there was nothing outside, and that the great glass doors stood open. The last words they heard from the Radio Man before exiting the mirror world was _"Well we've had a lot of fun…we should try this again in about thirty years! By then you the old man will be dead and buried or too senile to move. Not to mention…your nightmares will be SO much nastier…" _

The mirror had dropped them into Stan's hospital room, and the after helping him to his feet, the three exited the room, and found themselves on the first floor of the Blackwell manor. The bus was still there, and both Stan and Dipper were surprised to find that she could drive the bus while they rested. It was a good thing too because Dipper was becoming delirious from blood loss, and Stan's hands were nearly useless. Unable to stand the silence, she turned on the radio the moment they left town, following Stan's instructions to the letter. The old man coughed and asked if she could turn off the radio in a broken voice. After a moment she had replied, "Explain to me and Dipper what the whole deal with your brother is, and I'll keep the radio off. Deal?"

The senior had sighed deeply, before reluctantly agreeing. He wasn't much of a story teller, but by the time he had reached the beginning of this summer, Dipper was fast asleep and they were nearing Gravity Falls. Not only that, but Mabel felt a deep compassion for her great uncle. She glanced at her twin, and knew that, in Stan's position, she would probably do the exact same thing as he. She still felt that his sneaking around was uncalled for, and made him promise to shut down the machine, apparently he had realized that he valued the two of them too much to let them be killed because of his treacherous portal and the unlikely chance that his brother might still be alive. As the sun rose on the town which Mabel had long since lent her heart to, the young brunette felt herself succumbing to the dreamy feeling of unwavering hope, and looked forward to flopping down on the bed and enjoying a good long sleep.

** _-{-[^(0)^]-}- _**

A young boy coughed due to the dust thrown up by the bus crash, and climbed out of the wreck, scraping his arms against the glass which was scattered across the wet ground. Fog was everywhere, and it blocked out the faithful light of dawn, replacing it with eerie shade. Smiling at his freedom, he ran forward, and began climbing up the rock hill, reaching the top as it began to rain. A radio lay in a puddle before him, and a voice fizzled over the static as he picked it up and inspected it. _"BZZZT-Welcome Gideon Pines…BZZZT...to-_**your worst nightmare**-_Silent Hill. We've been expecting you."_ **(Faceless Mabel was created by ****_kidbopzilluminati_****, you can see the picture by going to Depravity falls Tumblr, hitting the tag list and selecting "CROSSOVERS." ****_"Two birds on a wire" _****was created by Regina Spektor. I'm sorry for the delay, I was on vacation and I had a bunch of stuff to tend to.**


End file.
